Happy Halloween~

Piers Polkiss was running. His small feet tapped the street, his heart beating in his ears.

It was real! The same fucking creature that had been haunting his dreams for days was real! He cussed and cursed under his breath.

Piers had tried to talk to people about it, he had! But they just laughed and said he'd been playing Dark Days on VR too much. And...he had, he supposed. Fucking horror game! Fucking dad who didn't care!

But the bloody creature that was somehow chasing him looked exactly, exactly like...like that thing! From the game!

It made him second-guess himself. Was he mad? Had he gone mad? What was it they said about too much video-games being a bad thing again? Was it true?!

But now... Now it was here. It was here! With him! And it wasn't a game. It wasn't a fucking dream! This... was the cold. harsh. reality!

He had to hide. That was the only way! Just like in the game.

Oh, god... What if it didn't work?! This wasn't a fucking game after all, it wasn't a bloody fucking game!

Thud. Thud. Thud. The slow sound of heavy footsteps shook the ground and resounded in his ears.

"Oh, please no. Please don't let it find me. Please, please, please!" Piers muttered under his breath from the bush that he was hiding behind, hands over his ears to shut out the horrible thudding of the creatures feet that shook the ground, coming ever closer. The footsteps came closer.

"Oh, god, no! No-no-no!" He whimpered, tears streaming down his face.

"Come out, come out where-ever you are~" A childish voice rung out, echoing in his ears.

"It's time for Piers-hunting~" the haunting voice sung out, and Piers started sobbing.

Was this how Dudley's freak cousin felt when they were hunting him?

He knew he shouldn't have gone along with some of the shit that Dudley did, but dammit! They were just having a little fun, that's all! Who the fuck cared about that freak anyway? Non of the grownups did!

It made Dudley happy, and he wanted Dudley to be proud of him! Be proud of his like his old Pop never was, bloody wanker.

Nobody cared if his damned Pop beat him when he got drunk enough, so why the fuck should that little freak get away with enjoying his life when HE never was allowed too?!

How the fuck could he know that the bloody wanker... Harry some-shit-or-other...was some sort of freaking magician?! Or found a cursed hotel! What. the fuck. ever!

He cursed Dudley and his own life choices, as the creature that looked like something out of a creepy horror show stalked ever closer. Always just out of sight.

He prayed, prayed-prayed-Prayed that the creature wouldn't find him! Oh god, no. No-no-please-mommy! No. No. No!

"Peak-a-boo...I...see...YOU~!" The eerie childish voice said and Piers looked up and let out a heart-wrenching scream.

"That was a fun game dad!" Harry grinned excitedly at his dad, before he stepped over to piers and poked at him with a stick he had picked up only moments before.

Pierce was lying on the ground, completely still, his face twisted into a contortion of horror. He didn't move, no matter how much Harry poked him.

"Good job, son." Asmodeus smiled proudly down at his son. He didn't think he had it in him to scare the kid to death -literally- but apparently he was wrong.

He wondered if that kid might have had some kind of heart disease, or if it was just that the body succumbed to the illusion of being killed, to the point that the psychosomatic damage became reality. Either way, it worked out fine.

"He's not moving, dad. Hey, Pierce! Wake up!" Harry kicked him in the ribs, with a confused look on his face and Asmodeus sighed heavily.

He supposed he had to explain his...son...a few things about human life and it's futility. In retrospect he supposed he should have made sure that Harry watched movies that had a bit more permanent deaths in them than Tom & Jerry... And not let him think the thing he did to the cat was a dream.

In a quaint, magical castle on the other side of the continent, Dumbledore was sitting in his brightly lit office.

Surrounded by his wonderful goo-gads and thingamajigs, he felt in a contemplative mood.

When Arabella had told him about a child in Harry's neighborhood that had somehow died of heart-failure, his first thought went to the killing curse. He had been quite relieved when he had discovered that there was no trace of magic about him, and in all appearances, it was... well... whatever it was, it was muggle.

He shook his head sadly at the thought of a young child dying, but muggles were such fragile creatures. Prone to so many different diseases, unlike wizards.

Such tragedies always reminded him of the darker side of life, and of things he'd rather not think about. Albus blew a gentle breath at his tea and smiled sadly at his beloved pet and long time companion.

"Now, now, Fawkes. Don't give me that look." his voice weary with age and responsibilities..

"You know as well as I do that it was the best decision for everyone involved, Fawks." he gently stroked the red, downy feathers of his phoenix, as his thoughts turned to the recent events.

McGonnigal had been there yet again today, to ask him about Harry. And he had, as always, reassured her everything was under control, and the boy was was fine.

He was making sure someone watched over him. The muggles were treating him as well as could be expected. There really was nothing to worry about.

Granted, Mrs. Figgs was getting on it years, and nearly blind, but she had a good heart and would not allow a small child to suffer. She even babysat him from time to time.

Arabella was one of the only wizards he knew that could move about in the muggle world without attracting attention. And the fewer people that knew where the boy lived, the better.

He did feel a little bad about leaving young Harry with those unpleasant muggles. But it was all for the greater good.

He always knew little Harry would have a hard life, and wizards would either coddle him or cause him to be biased. And that was a very bad attitude for a hero to have. He would grow up strong with the Dursley's. And it would give Petunia the chance for redemption she so sorely needed. It would all be for the best, he just had to believe in that.

But they didn't abuse him! He would have removed the boy from their care instantly if they did. He wasn't a cruel man! If he had seen any signs of that, he would have been forced to take action. But he had not seen any real proof of that.

Dumbledore sipped his tea to calm his nerves. He would have checked up on him himself of course, but somehow something always seemed to get in the way. He was...busy. Yes, always so busy. Far too busy to check on a child who hadn't even begun school yet!

He leaned back in his chair and smiled as he petted his beloved Phoenix. Perhaps he should find the old gramophone player. Some music would surely sooth his nerves.

Petunia was quietly humming to herself as she prepared afternoon tea. Each one of the professionally prepared pastries, scones and sandwiches were carefully taken out of the box and arranged in a pleasing and decorative way on her new tree tiered serving stand, coated in real silver. Perfect!

When she smiled like this, in a certain light, one could truly see that she was the sister of the beautiful Lily Evans. Something unthinkable until just recently.

She smiled as she stroked her well-manicured fingers down the soft fabric of her authentic Dolce & Gabbana floral dress. Vernon had recently gotten yet another promotion, and with it, a higher paycheck. What a lucky woman she was, to be married to such a handsome, successful man!

A little less than a year ago she had been lamenting the expenses and freakishness of her nephew. And her husband's drinking problems had come as quite a shock to her as well. If anyone had told her how dramatically things would have changed back then, she would have laughed at them. But...not to their face of course.

And then, just last month -right after the unfortunate death of that kid, how terrible- her dear husband had given her some of the most wonderful pills!

Now... Petunia Dursley would normally never had even tried such a thing.

Pills that made you young and beautiful? The telly always warned her against trusting such nonsense. It never worked! Except...

She touched her face and smiled at her own window reflection. She could see the years vanishing from her face. And beauty, like that which she had always envied in her sister, were so close she could almost taste it!

No more horrid Botox and painful Dermapen treatments. Things that had to be repeated over and over, and that was just never quite good enough. No more needles and liquid diets! Only these wonderful, red pills. Like the color of blood...

Honestly, the color did creep her out. And they had this unpleasant metallic taste to them, but they worked!

Was she even this beautiful in her youth? She leaned closer to the window. She swore her face was becoming prettier by the day! Her heart swelled with pride and joy.

She moved to peer in the door of the old guestroom, which was now Vernon's office. She was curious about what her husband and nephew was up to, having barely seen either of them this day.

Vernon was currently looking over her nephews shoulder and pointing at their brand new pc screen. The very latest and best, naturally.

It had cost them a small fortune, but it was worth every penny! She smiled blissfully as she remembered her best friends envious looks.

She snuck even closer, curious about what they were talking about this time.

"No, son. You're not ready to watch Hellraiser yet. Maybe when you're a little older. Try Spawn instead. That one's based of a comic book."

"But daaaad..." he whined. She could hear his small feet kicking the chair in a way that reminded her of her own beloved Duddikins. It was almost cute.

"How about this; If you study hard, and show good progress in your work, I'll let you watch Wishmaster next week, okay?"

"Okay dad..." Harry was still clearly pouting, but he seemed mollified by the suggestion of...whatever it was.

Maybe it had a scene in it like the scary cave in Aladdin, Harry was such a strange kid.

Dudley had wet his bed for a week after watching that one. But she supposed the children weren't in kindergarten anymore.

The childish laughter ringing from the room at whatever Vernon had said was really quite hearwarming. Perhaps there was hope for the brat yet. Vernon clearly knew what he was doing.

For some reason Harry had recently developed an obsession with horror movies. And Petunia was very happy to see that her husband guided him to watch something more child appropriate.

Not that she knew what this...Spawn movie was, but comic books were definitely a child-friendly thing... Right?*

"Mooooom! We're out of biscuits again!" Dudley's voice rang from the kitchen, and Petunia hurried down to take care of her precious little Diddikins.

Harry furrowed his brows as he read his new book yet again. Why did his aunt say that it was bad to lie, when she was lying to her friends all the time? Why was murder so bad, but everyone loved watching it on telly?

He smiled down at his book. His father had patiently explained everything about human hypocrisy and handed him The Satanic Bible by an Anton Szandor LaVey. Harry instantly fell in love with it.

Somehow it felt very reassuring to finally have clear rules to follow! At least if he was punished now, he knew what he had done wrong!

Of course, his father kept supplementing them with his own advice. Like It is only bad if you get caught. Or What people doesn't know can't hurt them.

He smiled down at the page he had read a thousand times already.

Satan represents indulgence, instead of abstinence!

Satan represents vital existence, instead of spiritual pipe dreams!

Satan represents undefiled wisdom, instead of hypocritical self-deceit!

Satan represents kindness to those who deserve it, instead of love wasted on ingrates!

Satan represents vengeance, instead of turning the other cheek!

Satan represents responsibility to the responsible, instead of concern for psychic vampires!

Satan represents man as just another animal, sometimes better, more often worse than those that walk on all-fours, who, because of his "divine spiritual and intellectual development," has become the most vicious animal of all!

Satan represents all of the so-called sins, as they all lead to physical, mental, or emotional gratification!

Satan has been the best friend the church has ever had, as he has kept it in business all these years.

He finally had something more substantial to live by than It's all your fault, Freak! Why? Cuz you're a freak! Now shut up and do the dishes! You should have died with your parents!

He also like The Book of the Law by Aleister Crowley. The guy looked, like, super-scary - but it sounded like a good rule to follow to do whatever you want to do...

Although his daddy had told him that that wasn't exactly what he meant, then sighed and said maybe he should wait with that too. And muttered something annoyed about Harry being too young for some Marquis named Sayd or Saadh... Sade?

Which naturally lead to him trying to borrow it from the library. The keyword is trying.

Apparently the librarian did not like the thought of an elementary school kid reading things that were deemed inappropriate even for adults.

She had refused to let him borrow the one book they did have by him. Which of course had lead him to promptly curse her, because, damnit! He wanted that book! And he was not THAT young!

He glared at her glassy eyes as she checked the books out on her own card and wondered if he should make her go jump off a bridge when she was done. It would serve her right! Bloody condescending cunt!

Not that he was entirely sure what the word meant, but he'd watched enough grown-up shows on the telly by now to figure out it fit her, going by the way the woman in that show used it at least. Maybe he should check out a dictionary while he was here...

Petunia smiled as she made a small twirl in her new dress, before hurriedly brushing herself down and blushing. Acting like some flushing teenager like that! What would people think if they saw her?!

But she felt like she was a young girl again, after that wonderful date she just had with her husband.

It was too bad that he had to cut their date short. But he was clearly too important at work for them to manage without him. She flushed in pride at being the wife of such a handsome, important man as Vernon.

Her husband had really shaped up the last few months. Why, she had never thought anyone could loose weight quite so fast as he had. And the hint of muscle toning he had gotten... She felt a hot all over.

It was embarrassing how she was behaving, it really was. But Vernon had somehow become even more handsome than when she first began dating him, back when he was was the champion of his College's Cricket team. She had always known he would go far.

Oh, my! What a darling bracelet that was, Petunia thought, peering into the store window. It was simple and gilded, but with stones that could very easily be mistaken for real diamonds. Well... She simply had have it!

Petunia fumbled through her purse to see how much money she had in her wallet, when she came upon something strange.

A pocket-book? How odd... She hardly ever read, unless it was for her book club. And they had certainly never read anything so... pink! The bright neon color of the cover gloved at her, and it was the strangest symbol of an upside-down star with a stylized goat's head inside it on the cover. No... This was certainly not any of her own books! However had it ended up in her purse?

"The Satanic Witch?" she mumbled, reading the title of it out loud. Oh, what bloody nonsense was this?! And wasn't satanists supposed to be all black and depressive? What a strange book.

Just then, the alarm on her phone went off and she quickly placed the book back in her bag. She could worry about what surely was a prank some teen must have played on her later. She really had to catch the buss before it left, or she would be stuck here for a whole hour.

Really... This restaurant was certainly nice, but it was terribly far away from all forms of public transportation. One would almost have thought Vernon had brought her there on purpose, if it wasn't for the fact that her sweet, sweet hubby would never do such a thing.

Well, that, and they had come by car. It was hardly his fault that he had been called away for work. And he had to take the car. She understood that. But it did't mean she enjoyed waiting for such plebeian transportation as the buss.

Sitting down at the bench, she looked at her watch. 5 minutes. That wasn't too bad. At least she was sure it would come soon.

Ten minutes later, she checked her watch again. Where was that buss? This was getting terribly boring. She sighed. Should have brought a book.

Another five minutes, and Petunia decided that she might as well start reading the book she did have. Even if it had been place there as a prank. It was surely better than to worry about what kind of delinquent had placed a gum on the signpost for the buss, or writing a shopping list in her head.

Clothes? How to seduce the man you wanted? This was satanism?! ...Perhaps satanism wasn't as scary as media would have them believe after all...

"...and that is why he didn't get up." Asmodeus looked down at his vassal.

"So it was like the cat? That wasn't a dream?!" Harry said with a frown on his face. "But I didn't do anything. We were just playing..." he curled up on the chair, looking vaguely regretful, which made the demon beside him annoyed.

"There's nothing wrong with killing someone who has hurt you. Taking revenge is the most natural thing in the world." he assured the kid.

"But... Isn't killing...wrong?" Harry asked, slightly confused. The telly said it was wrong, and those fantasy books.

"It's a lie the weak humans tell the strong ones, to keep them from every realise their full potential. It's the same as when your aunt and uncle told you there is no such thing as magic, because they were scared you'd realise how strong you were." Asmodeus reassured him, patting his shoulder for greater effect.

Harry blushed. Was he going to believe made-up stories and make-believe telly?

"And think of the army. It's an honor to be a soldier and kill people who are your enemy. Remember that movie on telly that honored all those war-veterans?" he pushed further, placing his arm around the boy's shoulder.

"But that's..." Harry's weak protest died on his lips. Was it really different? His little brow furrowed in thought. They killed people. And he knew that the people who told them to kill didn't always have any kind of nice intention. And the greedy americans who killed people just to get their oil and such was really super-proud of the soldiers that killed even innocent people! The telly had told him so again and again! He let out a small gasp of realization.

"But... why do they say...?" but he knew...didn't he? His daddy had told him time and time again.

They were scared of people who were strong enough to kill. And maybe they weren't scared of the soldiers, because they obeyed their leader blindly, and everyone trusted the leaders. Like with Hitler!*

He didn't know it yet, but a small part of his child-like innocence died that day. All Harry felt was a profound sadness, and the very first tendrils of a creeping bitterness, as he suddenly realized just how horrible and complicated life was.

"Come with me." Asmodeus said, smiling a deceptive gentle smile down at the small child.

"Okay." Harry said, torn from his contemplation. "Where are we going?"

"I think it's about time we visit one of Pierce's friends. He's currently hiding out behind the school, to wait for the shy girl from your class to pass by on her way to her piano lessons. When she comes there, he intends to beat her up and steal the money her mother has given her to buy her grandma's medicine." he urged, painting the most terrible picture he could for the small child.

Harry didn't disappoint him. He let out a small gasp of horror, remembering how the gang would always take away everything he had...the few times he had anything to take. And they always, always beat him up. And she was just a little girl. A whole year younger than him!

Harry never questioned the story, or any of it's clearly logical flaws. Asmodeus wondered how long that innocent naivety would last.

"We have to stop him!" Harry said, rushing towards the door.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Asmodeus smiled at the furrowing of the child's brows. He gently guided him towards the kitchen and handed him one of Petunia's sharp cooking knives.

"Be careful to not cut yourself."

"But..." Harry bit his lip uncertainly.

"How else were you intending to stop him?" the demon urged. "He is bigger than you. Stronger than you. And nobody would believe you if you told them. You've tried that before, remember?"

And he did remember. The anger welling back up in him as he recalled all those times he had tried to tell the adults, to have them help him, protect him. And it never worked. Adults just didn't listen to children. Or at least, not to him.

His eyes shifted to his daddy. Nobody but his daddy at least. He nodded decisively and hid the knife in the inner pocket of his jacket. He knew from his movies that the killers always needed to hide their intentions until the last moment. It was very important. And he didn't want to let his daddy down.

"Will you...?" he bit his lip and admonished himself for being so relying on his dad. How could he ever make his daddy proud, if he couldn't even save a girl without needing his daddy's help?!

"It's okay son. I believe in you." he smiled and placed his hands on Harry's small shoulders, and fatherly kissed his brow.

"Remember the Pact." he said, and gently touched the mark on the boy's skin. "I will be with you in spirit, if not in the flesh. I will always guide you, no matter how far away you are."

"Thank you." Harry beamed up at his daddy, gratitude glittering in his eyes, before a hard look overtook it, and he took a deep breath. He could do this! He wouldn't let his daddy down! No matter what, he wouldn't let his daddy down!

"Remember, Harry... Slice, don't stab."

Petunia looked in the hallway mirror, adjusting her hair and pushing her cheeks up. Maybe the book was right? Men were, after all, very sexual creatures, she had her own mother preach that to her more than once.

What if she wasn't good enough for Vernon?

Oh, she was married to him, and he had never so much as looked at any other woman before. Well, maybe looked. But not for long. And he had never been unfaithful to her.

But, whispered a small little voice in her head, things are different now. HE is different.

And it was true. Even when she first met him he had not looked this good. And she was younger then. Prettier. And even with the pills she was now taking, her body still didn't look as good as she wanted it too, even if her face was getting prettier ever day.

Over time he had grown fat and lazy. Was it the alcoholism? Or was it because he no longer played sports? Whatever the cause, he had lost his once good looks at the same rate that she had. Perhaps even more so. But she still loved him. Then again... Women didn't care as much for looks as men did. That's what all her magazines said. Even her friends agreed with that. Men were beasts, deep down.

And now her own man had turned into a very sexy beast. She had noticed how all her friends stared at him. And flirted! Shamelessly! Her cheeks burned in outrage at their behavior.

She had then been happy he did not seem to fall for their vile tricks, but for how long? They were all as old as she was, after all. And only a few of them had retained any of their former beauty.

But what if he met someone else, someone young and pretty? A tremor of fear rushed through her body and chilled her to the core. Would he be tempted then? Would he hate being bound to a wife that looked so... so... old!

She quickly picked up the book from the drawer she had hidden it it.

It wouldn't hurt to get some new clothes, she supposed. She wondered where on that clock her dearest Verny was. Was he a 12'o Clock personality? Six months ago, she would have said no, but now... Dominant...checked. Wore alot of blacks and reds...checked. The further she read, the more certain she became. He was clearly a 12'o clock!

Her focus shifted to her own body, and she felt a blush rising in her cheeks. She cupped her breasts. So small. Barely even a B-cup, if that. And how they had stretched over the years, and one birth... She shuddered and shifted to her face.

Wrinkles! She thought with disgust. And her whole face was on the verge of sagging! She nearly started sobbing.

Her whole body looked more like one of those intellectual 4'o clock types! And yet she didn't read much, and her clothes were dressed in the most fashionable, bright colors...or browns. Not at all fitting her type! Much less the perfect 6'o Clock she needed to be!

She grabbed her bag with a determined last look in the mirror. She needed pastels! And shorter skirts and some stay-ups instead of her trusty, brown pantyhose! Maybe some heels? Her own were a bit...short.

She poked at her hips, wondering if maybe there was some kind of skirt that could make them seem wider... and maybe a padded bra.

Oh, how surprised her husband would be! And maybe...just maybe...she would try one of those 'Rituals' in the book.

She knew she didn't have any magic. But no matter how much she had tried, successfully she thought up until now, to suppress those dreams of being like her perfect sister... the dream was not completely dead yet.

It wouldn't hurt to try at least. The worst that could happen was that nothing happened. She pretty much expected that anyway. Still... Whatever had even the slightest chance of making her prettier for her husband, she would try it. No matter how crazy!

Asmodeus watched as his latest victim and pawn rushed out the door, and he smiled. The book had been a very good choice. She seemed to be on the right path now, that slippery slope which he so enjoyed pushing susceptible humans even further down.

Ensuring that the buss she was intending to take ended up derailing, accidentally killing an old lady and nearly her dog, as well as hurting a large number of people, well... that had been a bonus. As well as a stroke of genius.

Buss-drivers were always so easy to tempt. They had such an ungratifying job that sipping a bit of brew on the job never seemed all that bad... even if he had resisted all the way until his agent had pulled down his pants. She had been a good choice for the job herself, the completely slut that she was, like most his agents.

All in all, it had hardly cost any effort to set up. And now that his wife was gone, it was time to check on his latest investment; his 'son'.

Harry stared at the body before him, feeling numb, as the reality of the situation sunk in. Blood. Blood everywhere. He almost wished he had stabbed him, even if it would have cut his own hands too.

He still remembered the sickening sound as he slashed at the boy's throat. The shock in his eyes. The attempt to scream that turned into a horrible gurgling. It was not a pretty death.

He turned around and saw his dad, smiling at him. Kneeling down, he opened his arms and held them out for Harry to run into, before he burst out crying. Deep, heavy sobs into his fathers impeccable, casual Armani outfit.

"You did good, son. You did good." he smiled and stroked the child's hair gently, hugging him close with the other hand.

Harry's sobs slowly turned quiet, as the overpowering emotions crashed and collided inside him.

He felt dirty, but that might just be the blood. He felt like he had done something horrible, but it had been so easy. It had been too easy. And yet, his daddy told him he did well. And he felt a pride and happiness that he hadn't let his daddy down. That he'd done good.

He'd never had anyone that would praise him before, and the feeling of pride was intoxicating. Just as much as the feeling of what he just had done was nauseating.

Was it wrong? It felt wrong. But... His daddy said it was right. And... he had saved that girl! That was good! ...right? Right! It was good! It was good! He nodded to himself as he dried his eyes, before peering tentative up at his father's face.

The pride and joy that shone from the demon's face as he noticed his vassal rising his head to look at him had the little boy blown away with awe.

He felt loved! He felt Pride! And he felt that his daddy would never have loved him so much if he hadn't killed that man. And the girl would be happy too... Not that he could tell her, but she would have been happy, he was sure! She would!

Then a though hit him and he scuttled back from his daddy.

"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I din't mean to make your clothes dirty!" Harry said, his eyes wide. He knew how important it was for his daddy to look good. 'Appearance is nine tenths of the law" he always said. And his own, new, nice clothes...

"What are you talking about?" his father smiled at him, and Harry stared at his fathers pristine, clean clothes, before looking down on himself and his own.

Not a spec of blood. Not anywhere! How was this possible! The question shone out of those expressive emerald eyes.

"Magic." the demon smiled, and made Harry feel even more in awe of this wonderful power that made everything better and cleaned everything up. He refused to look behind him, and see the corpse lying there.

"Come on, son. I'm sure all this activity has tiered you out, and it is getting late. Let's go home." the fatherly smile on his face was the most beautiful and enticing thing Harry had ever seen in his life.

Home. Such a simple word. And his hear burst with the thought that, for the very first time in his young life, it was a home.

The smile on the young boy's face was brilliant, and he felt joyful beyond belief. The small grain of guilt that tried to make itself known was doused by the brightly burning joy he felt, and that was exactly what the demon had intended all along...

Behind them, left in a dirty alleyway near a playground, the fresh corps of a young boy was lying in a puddle of blood, growing colder every second. And the night would fall without any little girls passing by there to find it...

The night breeze left a small trail of frost on the tiny corps, and the winter drew ever nearer...

A question to my dear readers.

I am contemplating to simply skip forward to Harry's Hogwarts letter to start off the next chapter. However... VERY many things are going down in Private Drive that is changing his, and everyone else's lives, compactly. As those of you picking up on the hints may have noticed.

I could skip forward, and have the life-changing events shown bits of in flashbacks as needed... OR I could flesh out the events before he gets to Hogwarts, which would make it take a few more chapters for him to reach school...

(I have every detail fairly fleshed out in my mind and in my notes, but I wouldn't want to bore you with Cults and secret conspiracies if you truly prefer to see him enter the Hogwarts part of the story quickly.)

So I ask you, my dear readers... Which option would you prefer?

Quickly to school? Or a fleshed out, sinful change of his childhood and neighborhood?


Remember: Asmodeus IS a demon. He will twist the truth to suit his purpose. And Harry is a child with a child's desperate need for his daddy's approval. One that is so strong that, even in the HP books, he bends over backwards to please the fake image of a dead dad that everyone else tells him about. Without even verifying that his dad actually would have wanted him to do what he did.

Just IMAGINE how bad that worship would have gotten if he replaced his father-figure with someone whom also saved him from the abusive Dursley's. Not to mention who keeps giving him all kinds of new and wonderful things and makes him happy. Gratitude is a powerful force all on it's own.

*It should be mentioned that every single one of the above-mentioned movies are horror movies that would cause the average kid wet his bed for at least a year, and sleep with his light on until high school...or for life. A demon is not very likely to understand the term 'inappropriate', in any sense of the word.

To go by the most 'child friendly' one; Spawn starts with a guy burning to death, includes very visual scenes of Hell and a perverted Satanic clown that makes lewd jokes all the time. And that's barely even scratching the surface.

*Harry have clearly watched History Chanel a little TOO much. (Which would be encouraged by Asmodeus, because it really DO teach you a lot about war strategies, as well as desensitizing you to all the shit in the world.)

And, believe me, that mishmash of historical facts, combined with the multitude of documentaries on how america has fucked up, paired with europe's common attitudes of the sheer idiocy and greed of american leaders will easily be meshed into forming that exact world view.