Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

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Lightning Dragon's Roar
A Harry Potter Fanfiction
By Zero Rewind

© 2014
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Chapter 2: Electric Introduction

It had been a month since Dudley and I did our reconciliation thing. To be honest, I hadn't seen much of him, seeing as I've been almost completely focused on the computer he'd so graciously given me. I even lost track of which day it was, strangely enough. I knew so much, now. Was this how Hermione felt when learning things? I never really had any interest in schoolwork, since I picked up on the basics and managed to score over 80% on my tests; it was the same story in Hogwarts. Most of the time, my scores were Exceeds Expectations— except Potions, but then again, Snape was a total shitstain. Hermione helped with my homework, but I never really put my all in theoretical work.

Anyway, back to what I was talking about. The day after I'd received Dudley's 'presents', I started using the computer. Took me around ten minutes to get the hang of properly typing on the keyboard. And so, the first thing I did was launch something called 'Mozilla Firefox' — a program that accessed the internet— and, like every curious fourteen year old boy, what I decided to look up was 'girls' on the search index called 'Google' (later of course learning that I could say "I googled girls" without sounding stupid).

I got a list of TV shows, and actual definitions for the word 'girl', which made me face-palm. Luckily, at the top, there was a link to a series of images. What followed was a veritable fucking ocean of the hottest women I'd ever laid eyes on. Pictures of women in bikinis, underwear, maid outfits, or no clothing at all, showing off their curves and tanned bodies in glorious high definition. Some were even kissing! It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever laid eyes on. Why the hell did wizards hate Muggles, when they could provide us with such beauty?

That was the beginning of my corruption. By the end of the first week, I'd already went through thousands of pictures and hundreds of videos— discovering porn was like icing on the cake— as well as all the tissues in my room. Now I understood why Dudley had all those 'colds', last year.

Over the remaining weeks, I began 'surfing' on the internet. It was difficult, at first, since I had no idea where I was supposed to go, but Dudley had given me a list of websites I could access. He told me to access them in order, and not randomly. It was strange advice, but he hadn't steered me wrong yet.

As to the list itself, he gave it to me in point form:

1) Google: I was already using this website quite extensively for most of my 'needs'. If anything confused me, or I didn't understand a reference, or a certain word I saw, I was to 'google' the term. So I used it to research anything and everything that grabbed my fancy, or seemed any useful.

2) YouTube: According to Dudley, this website was essentially a library of videos that people shared with the world. Most of the content was boring and harmless. Some were comedic in nature, like videos of people failing at just about anything I could think of. A lot were just people playing video games to show people how to beat certain games— playthroughs, they were called. Then there was the so called 'weird' section of YouTube. Snakes eating eggs, and various animals including other snakes. Japanese commercials. Naked people performing odd cultural dances. Personally, I preferred watching videos about martial arts and documentaries of all kinds, learning a great deal about the sciences, and non magical animals. I was by no means an expert, of course. However, thanks to this crash course, I wouldn't stand out like a sore thumb when conversing with non magical folk. I snorted at the thought of Ron butchering terms like "electricity" and "telephone".

3) Encyclopedia Dramatica: At first, I thought this was like Wikipedia. It certainly shared an identical template; oh was I wrong. As the name indicates, it was a website dedicated to cataloging any and all interesting and dramatic happenings on the internet, also known as the Internets, interwebs, the web, WWW, DubyaDubyaDubya, etc. Said to be created as the 'final arbiter of truth'. Mostly filled with humorously racist and offensive content, ranging from indiscriminate mockery directed to every single race on earth, to recorded beheadings (complete with jokes in the subtext). Needless to say, desensitization occurred soon after.

4) 4chan: Encyclopedia Dramatica got most of its disturbing content from here. It was an image board, with sections of all kinds. The weirder parts of it was in the section titled 'Random', also known as /b/ ("Do not talk about /b/!" I muttered to myself amused, remembering the so called rules of the Internet). The things that were seen in there could simply not be unseen. If Encyclopedia Dramatica did not do the job of desensitizing me, 4chan surely did.

However, Anonymous surprisingly did deliver. Among the many posts detailing gruesome murders, accidents, self experimentation, videos of wizards attacking people in Europe began surfacing. My first thought when checking these posts out was "fake and gay", but then, more and more were posted. Incredibly, 4chan made an announcement on their homepage, telling its European user base to be excessively careful on the streets if they saw people in robes waving sticks at them. Most of the basement dwellers took that as a joke, but some who actually regularly left their houses took it rather seriously. All this communication between Muggles was occurring underneath the wizards' noses; I found this highly amusing. Some Bulgarian bloke took it to the next level, as usual, keeping a camera with him at all times— and a gun. He ended up somehow filming himself killing a Death Eater, and followed by taking his stuff; a stick ("HOLY SHIT, A WAND?" was the general response), some gold, silver and bronze coins ("wat", was the general answer), and a few bottles of foul tasting, viscous liquid ("What is this, an MMORPG?"). The original poster (or OP, as it were), was hailed as a legend among the great 4chan heroes of old, and was subsequently arrested by the local police force (AKA "party-vanned") for first degree murder, as per the usual course.

The deeds of that Bulgarian bloke made me realize something. Here was a guy, a Muggle, who took down a full fledged Death Eater, all on his own. Sure, the bloke was probably a glory seeking, murdering piece of shit, but he actually pulled it off. If he hadn't shared it with 4chan, he would've probably gotten away with it, as well.

So, if he could do it, why couldn't I?

The answer was simple: I could. Then came the following question: should I?

An image of Dumbledore with a disappointed expression on his face appeared to the forefront of my mind. I savagely tore it aside, feeling a little satisfaction at doing so. That old man pissed me off back in June, when he'd refused Mrs. Weasley's request that I stay with them for the summer.

I'd remembered it quite well. Dumbledore had simply refused her request and said that he had 'his own reasons'. I was reminded of the night that Voldemort was resurrected.

"But how to get at Harry Potter? For he has been better protected than I think even he knows, protected in ways devised by Dumbledore long ago, when it fell to him to arrange the boy's future. Dumbledore invoked an ancient magic, to ensure the boy's protection as long as he is in his relations' care. Not even I can touch him there..." Voldemort had said, back then. I remembered the words. Dumbledore put me with the Dursleys when old Tom was beaten the first time. While I was now on decent terms with Dudley, and to a lesser extent Petunia, I still hated Vernon with a burning passion. I understood the need for safety, but why not take care of me himself?

The answer, of course, was easy. He's not my next of kin, so why should he bother? In my head, I acknowledged the validity of that statement. That didn't stop the feelings of resentment I had towards the man, though. I just hid them better, that's all. I still respect the man, for making the hard decisions, but respecting and actually liking someone are not the same thing.

Back to my current dilemma.

I knew that I was definitely going to be at the heart of this war, no matter what people might have said. Voldemort has been after me for a long time, now. Twice in First Year; the first, was when he jinxed my departed Nimbus 2000 during a Quidditch game; the second, at the end of the year, when I was forced to kill Quirrell to defend myself. Again, Tom tried to kill me in Second Year, through an enchanted diary of all things. My Third Year was, impossibly, delightfully free of Voldemort. Of course, it all went to the crapper in Fourth Year. Hell, that entire year was particularly horrible in more ways than one; shunned by most of the student body, scared out of my mind about the upcoming tasks, forced to get past a dragon, to swim through a freezing lake for an hour, to make my way through a maze filled with dangerous creatures and traps of all kinds. Just when I thought it was all over, when I got to the Triwizard Cup... Voldemort came back. After somehow managing to not die, yet again, I was almost killed by Moody, who turned out to be Barty Crouch Jr.!

'I'm half expecting next year to fight a Nundu or a Giant or something. Maybe both. Or maybe another dose of Voldemort. Maybe Voldemort ON the Nundu, with his pet giant stupidly walking behind him. That's it!' I thought to myself, my mind going off in tangents.

Anyway, it was time to take the kid gloves off, time to take things seriously. I wouldn't kill anyone, of course. Maybe beat them into submission, break their wands, go as far as cut off an arm or two. As for old Tommy... Well, I don't really think he was just going to roll over and die if I asked nicely enough. He pretty much dominated the entire fight last June. It was only thanks to random chance that I made it out of there at all. If that portkey wasn't there, and if the reverse spell effect hadn't occurred when our wands connected, I would've been dead. Or worse, held hostage, at the mercy of Voldemort, who seemed to dole out Cruciatus curses like candy.

I got off my chair, and stood in front of the mirror, gazing at myself. I needed something powerful, something fast. My eyes flitted to the scar on my forehead. That lightning bolt scar made me a target, I needed to become stronger!

Wait a minute... Lightning. I jumped back on my seat in front of the computer, and opened a new tab in my browser. Quickly typing in "Lightning", got me several Wikipedia links, as well as a few videos on YouTube. I clicked one of the video links, watching the thunderstorm recording. The original poster included a few slow motion takes of it, and I was literally in awe of it. The caption at the bottom of the video stated that lightning travels at a speed of over a hundred kilometers per second. To put it into perspective, it was almost 300 times times as fast as the speed of sound.

I pulled up a new tab, searching for even more and more information, no matter how mundane it seemed. I looked up articles, books, more videos, checked out a few manga I'd been reading online. I dismissed nothing. Magic was like energy, right? It wasn't just about pointing a wand and saying the words. If that were the case, there wouldn't be Muggles, now would there? I remembered the sword of Gryffindor appearing to me when I was fighting the basilisk. Sure, Dumbledore had said the sword would appear to any true Gryffindor, but it was definitely me who managed to summon the sword.

I fondly stopped at the Fairy Tail manga; I'd been reading this comic for a while, always eager to check out every new chapter being released on a weekly basis. The whole story struck a chord within me, because most of the characters were children who'd been through horrible circumstances, but found solace in each other and the guild that they joined. The comics sometimes felt like great lessons in morality, encouraging friendship, loyalty, and love towards your fellows, your guild-mates, as it were; and to be honest, it was something of a private desire of mine to find others who were like me. People who'd suffered like me. That way, I wouldn't feel so alone in this world. Sure, Hermione was a pretty great friend, but she didn't really understand what I've been going through. On the other hand, Ron's betrayal hurt me deeply. I'd only told him I forgave him because I had enough enemies that year, and didn't need to make even more. I didn't think I'd ever trust him again.

I shook my thoughts of Ron and Hermione off, and backtracked. I especially enjoyed reading about the magic that existed in the world of Fairy Tail. Lost Magic, Dragon Slayer Magic, Celestial Spirit Magic, God Slayer Magic, Demon Slayer Magic, various elemental magic types as well. My personal favorite was the Dragon Slayer magic. And now, the idea of becoming a Lightning Dragon Slayer was looking incredibly appealing. Speed, precision, and power. Laxus Dreyar was a total powerhouse, completely dominating most of his fights. Something of an awkward jerk, to be sure, but powerful nonetheless.

But could I really replicate that kind of magic? We students had always been told that wandless magic was incredibly rare, and highly difficult to control. But I'd also seen Dobby throw Lucius Malfoy across a hallway with a push of magic. Goblins had their own style of magic. Veela were capable of throwing fireballs. Basilisks used magic in their eyes to kill you with a single gaze. Phoenixes could teleport anywhere they wanted, and carry great weights. Owls could find you anywhere unless you were hidden behind wards. The list went on and on...

I was reminded of a speech by Makarov that I'd read at the start of the story. "Listen up. The power to overcome reasoning is born from reasoning. Magic is not a miracle. When the 'spirit' flow within us and the 'spirit' flow in nature connects, they will form an embodiment for the first time. You will need a strong mentality and a lot of concentration for that. I mean, pouring all of your soul into whatever you do IS the magic."

The Patronus charm was a great example of this. I could say the words and point my wand somewhere, but if I did not think of a happy memory, nothing would happen.

I needed to believe in myself, that I could do it. No doubts. And my magic should act accordingly. It had to.

That was why, not thirty minutes later, I stood in front of a contraption I'd made on the fly. Borrowing some copper wire and electrical tape from the garage, I hooked up a series of batteries together, taping them up so they don't easily separate, as well as fixing both ends with copper wire. I held the wires with rubber gloves, and inched them closer to my mouth, which was wide open.

I hesitated for a moment, a part of my conscience yelling at me that this was incredibly stupid and that I could die. I laughed at it, just like I usually did, and bit down on the copper wire, hard. Bad move. Almost immediately, my nerves flared wildly, sending chaotic pain signals throughout my entire body. I tried to open my mouth, but the electricity forced me to clench my teeth even harder. My tongue burned, the smell of burning flesh entering my lungs as I hyperventilated. Before I knew it, I was on the ground, twitching erratically.

'Concentrate, damn it!' I thought to myself, forcefully calming down with deep breaths. It hurt like hell, but I forced through the pain. My gums and tongue were blistering, my teeth blackened, showing many cracks. My muscles made random spasms, a side effect of the electricity interfering with nerve signals. I was starting to reconsider this whole thing, when my magic answered my call. The electric current stopped being chaotic, and instantly took the path straight to my stomach instead of various parts of my body. The pain was much worse now, now fully concentrated in my abdomen. It felt like my stomach was being cooked from the inside. Tears were streaming down my face, but I didn't give up hope. It was working! I directed the electricity! So what if my stomach couldn't handle it? I could simply fashion myself a new one, one that can digest electricity and add it to my own power! I felt my insides gradually morphing. The pain lessened and lessened, until it was completely gone. Nothing hurt any more. Not my tongue, not my teeth, not my muscles, not my stomach...

I stayed that way for a few minutes, until the current stopped. The batteries were completely drained. I relaxed my jaw, and spit the copper wires out of my mouth, not really enjoying the taste of it. I stood up and walked in front of the mirror again. I hadn't even noticed the wide grin on my face. My teeth were still black, but they felt fine! I worriedly ran my tongue over them, the saliva cleaning off the dark charcoal layer, showing the white behind it. The charcoal tasted horrid, so I quickly licked off any spot I could reach, and spit out the black wad of spit mixed with charcoal. It wasn't enough, so I went to the bathroom and brushed my teeth, idly realizing that my canines were slightly longer than before.

I went back to my room, and made sure the batteries were empty, by stuffing one into my MP3 player. It didn't turn on.

I grinned again, and began hooking up even more batteries.

There was work to be done.

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Yay, Harry!

Should Voldemort learn anything to balance things out? He's already powerful enough, I think.

I would certainly appreciate any input you guys have.

Toodles!