AN: This is the first chapter. Hopefully many more are to come.

Full summary: AU, The Hogwarts' years of Harry Potter are always somewhat frantic, but what would happen if the events of all the first five books took place at the same time? What kind of chaos would it raise? Independent Harry. Smart Harry. Enchanter Harry. Eventual Runemaster Harry. Creatures (aside from basiliks, werewolves, dragons and merepeople). Political Harry. Begins with an anti-purebloods prejudiced Harry. Gray Harry. The story is Het and the main paring is Harry/Daphne with a possible expansion to Harry/Multi with Susan, Hannah, Fleur and Tonks being candidates.

AN2: Fixed the mistakes. (05 August 09)

I can see the castle on the right and most of the forest on the left. The hills are laid in typically scottish fashion. The grass, tall and humid, is glistering from the soft rain that is still pouring. Our boat isn't steady, the stupid-looking red-haired kid that assumed captaincy in a disgusting attempt to suck up to me is doing a terrible job of it. Still, I find my mind drifting; I remember the years that led me to this particular point in time. Today is a capital point of my life, the day I join my peers in a journey of self-improvement, the day I join Hogwarts.

It's not the beginning of the story though.

My story, the story of Harry James Potter, begins quite a bit earlier. Not, as one would assume, that fateful Halloween of 1981. Because, I consider that little bit of history as part of my parents story. Their end. No, the story of my short life can't really start before things start happening because of my own actions. That's why I think I should start with August 1985. The first piece of accidental magic I can remember that I'm sure I didn't imagine.

When I feel like confusing people I call it The Bear incident.

You see, a recurrent thing I learned across the years is that, accidental magic, much like wandless magic tends to be somewhat simple. Like levitation, recolouration, things that while magical are rudimentary enough to be dismissed as oddities if one is molded to do so.

Most are.

The Bear incident wasn't like that, it was in fact quite sophisticated. I don't think there even is another recorded accidental animation. Not that others couldn't do it, but it takes a ridiculously abnormal state of mind. Accidental magic is a part of will-magic that responds to primal needs, and those don't tend to do in the fancy stuff.

I was always different like that.

It happened when my thuggish cousin Dudley, who really was just a fat and spoiled child back then, threw a stuffed teddy bear at me because he thought it looked stupid and that stupid things should stay together. I don't actually think he came up with the idea by himself, either my Aunt or my Uncle probably said something that sounded like that near him and like any good destructive-deviant kid he just went straight from observation to practice.

Funny how every born-Dursley I met was a practical man.

Now, I can't really remember what went through my mind at the time, but I think that my guess is pretty close to the truth. Accidental magic starts earlier than 5. A lot earlier. I had likely done quite a bit of it before the incident and, knowing my relatives, I was duly blamed and punished for it. Which I most likely thought was unfair at the time but let me wary of unusual things happening near me. My magic couldn't really answer to my wish to hurt Dudley back in a straightforward way like banishing it right back because I knew on a subconscious level that I would be blamed for that.

That's where it gets interesting.

Five year old kids don't make a distinction between real people and humanoid toys. So my magic did the only thing I didn't think would fall back on me. It animated the bear and made it give Dudley a beating. That way it would clearly be the bear's fault. Not mine. It didn't work that way of course. How could it? I was punished once again.

But something changed that day.

No matter how naïve, no five year old can seriously see a stuffed toy beat the crap out of someone and just dismiss it. While the primal part of my brain considered it was perfectly justified since it was like a person that wasn't me, the upper parts of it realized something was not quite right there. The bear never ever moved before. Not even a twitch.

And just when I was angry with Dudley it decided to forgo that most ancient tradition to defend my honor? Because let's be honest, it couldn't be for the bear's honor. I had seen Dudley throwing stones at it just the day before and it hadn't beaten Dudley then.

Not a chance in hell, I'm not that lucky.

So yeah, some of you might have gathered that me and my relatives aren't pals. Well, the bright ones, meaning the muggle-raised ones, should have anyway. My expectations for the other kind aren't that high. From where I stand today that's both bad and good. Bad because, lets face it, I never did appreciate my uncle's belt quite as much as he did. Good because as explained it prompted an unquestionable magical act and because it gave me a certain survival craving that served me well and will most likely keeping doing so.

That's a big advantage in the wizarding world.

Somehow, Darwinism never really applied to wizardkind. There is a more than fair amount of weakness, madness and sheer stupidity in it's gene-pool that was never eradicated because magic just evens the odds that way. It's a lot harder to die for us than for muggles. It makes me wonder if, as technology keeps rising and giving better results, the same will start to happen there too.

The Dursleys' continued existence certainly indicates so.

I like to think that I am smart, for my age or otherwise. You won't hear the word genius leave my mouth though… or maybe you will. So I'm not the humblest guy around. So sue me. The point is that after realizing I was somehow responsible for The Bear incident, I was smart enough, even at five, to understand that I most likely could do it again. What is done once can be replicated. But I understood more. Like I had improved over the months since my fourth birthday at doing domestic chores, I could most likely improve at whatever I had just done. I don't know if it appeared to me right there or if it came later but today I associate it with me leading an army of plushies and actions toys to subjugate the Dursleys.

I know I added the omnious dark cloak and the "Charge!" later.

But I really didn't fancy the idea of more beatings and starvation. I'm weird like that. So I concluded like any accidental-animation-wielding genius-child would that I needed to train myself to overthrow the evil adults, but I couldn't do it with people looking, under the threat of the mentioned punishments. I had to go undercover. Like that coyote with all the different looking clothes in the cartoons Dudley watched that I had caught glimpses of. That's another thing I am grateful for today. If I had actually been allowed to watch said cartoons I would have know that the poor guy's plans always failed.

It could have changed my whole life.

I don't know when it was that I started to get results. Well, intended results. I'm pretty sure that I put fire on two extras stuffed toys and made an action figurine explode the very next day. I honestly remember how upset it made me. For starters, it wasn't what I had wanted to do. In the second place, my intended result seemed harder than my obtained results. And finally, I could only use a toy once that way whereas an animated toy can be animated any number of times without damaging it in the least.

It never occurred to me that I could have just set my relatives on fire and be done with it.

The thing was that, after my first bit, even my primal brain couldn't keep fooling itself into thinking I needed to animate those toys. There just wasn't a valid reason for it to bother. No matter how hard I tried to will it to give life so that my minions could do my biding it just wouldn't work. Now, I was always very proud of my scientific mind. When I didn't manage to obtain the wanted results, I catalogued the unwanted results and tried to replicate the conditions of the incident.

For obvious reasons I couldn't use Dudley to do it.

So I made my first great breakthrough. If I could fool myself into the same state as the one I had been in that day, all the variables would be accounted for. It was obvious to me that the result depended entirely of me and not from my surroundings, the position of the stars at the time or Dudley himself. I was young then, now I know that form-magic and essence-magic are just as valuable as will-magic. Still, I was right back there. And it paid. After maybe three months or so, boy was I stubborn, of what can only be considered as self-programming I replicated the feat. In the meantime I learned without meaning to how to burn, explode, levitate, banish, paint in blue or red, make spin fast, cut to pieces and melt just about anything.

Thanks god, Dudley gave me a steady supply to experiment on.

To this day, my Aunt can't seem to figure out why there is a corner in the backyard where plants just don't want to grow looking like anything but Chernobyl's flora. I don't really know if it's from the residual magic or from all those failed attempts that I buried there.

Most likely both.

I don't rightly know how, but somewhere down this road, I started to feel what each effect felt like. Inside me first, as the magic built up, and later outside as well, either lingering inside my minions or in the short time while it traveled to it's intended target. Then my range of perception expanded and expanded until I could feel things from an hundred meters away. It sounds quite cool said like that but even in such a lot place as Privet Drive there is a lot of magic going on at all times. There was something all around my house, there were some creatures around too and there was a lot inside the crazy cat-lady's house. Her cats felt all magical. I wondered if they were her minions but she didn't feel different at all.

It was hell to sleep.

To this day, even after I learned to tune it off, I still don't get much shut-eye. Force of the habit I guess. At least I can buy elixirs to make up for it nowadays. It certainly was a problem when I was six and it remained so until I reached eight. Some of what I sensed I tried to copy. Most of it I could not, simply because it relied on form and essence magic on some level. I did learn apparition, though it was nearly useless at the time to me. I couldn't apparate other things without apparating with them so it didn't help at all with my minions and I really didn't have anywhere to go to where I couldn't go walking or where I didn't risk being caught doing it.

But my sensing skills were what helped me the most in a way.

When I was eight or something like that, I decided to go around and try to sense more different things to see if I could find anything that could give me control post-activation without having to recast. Apparition, or teleportation as I called it at the time, became handy from there. I simply couldn't walk in a straight line for hours in the hope of sensing something new and not raise a stink with Aunt Petunia. But I could walk for a bit, find a secure area, memorize it and start from there the next time.

In four months of steady progress I was in London.

My range had increased as well. I could now sense magic up to eight hundred meters. I still don't know how it can be so big. It shouldn't be possible. It should overload the brain if I am to believe the treaties on the subject. Guess that's just one more proof that I'm not normal. In any case, I'm glad I can. Because if the range had been a hundred meters shorter I would have missed Diagon alley altogether. As it was I sensed it.

Almost passed out the same second.

There is just too much magic in Diagon. It's really the center of wizarding England. Only Hogwarts tops it. That's how I learned to tune my sensing down. It took a while but I managed to approach it eventually, after delimiting the area. In December I entered the Leaky Cauldron for the first time. And I was expulsed from it for the first time too.

It was the last time.

Of course an eight year old with muggle clothing would be suspicious and therefore sent back to it's parents. Not to say the idiots had the decency of checking where were my parents. Still, I can't complain. That would have been a hassle. I just hate the lack of common sense of purebloods, or basic logic really. I'm glad my hair was long too. I didn't even know about the scar back then, all I knew was that it was more magical that the rest of my body.

Next time I wasn't alone.

In the short time I was inside I saw that a lot of people inside had those huge cloaks with hoods that covered their entire body. So I made one of these. It wasn't easy and frankly the final result was ugly. And red. I still hadn't managed to change colors aside from red and blue and I didn't have anything black to work with. Now, a normal person would probably have tried to find a way to be taller and would have gone right inside.

I didn't.

For some obscure reason I can't remember, I animated one of those discarded plastic dummy that shops let in the streets sometimes. It wore the cloak and some gloves and we entered the Cauldron hand in hand. Now, the hard thing was that it couldn't speak. So after seeing the inside and realizing that I still couldn't access the huge source of magic behind the place, I made it write all the questions I had to the barman, Tom.

You don't know just how hard it is to animate something so minutely.

Of course neither me nor the dummy had a wand, so Tom had to open the portal for us the first time. But after that I could just apparate with it directly in the alley. Just as well. The dummy attracts some unwanted attention since heavily cloaked people are mostly vampires or such. It has the up of explaining the lack of wand but the glaring down of asking just what an eight year old kid is doing in such company.

Still, I had to at least come with it every time.

Kids aren't suppose to even know how to apparate. Much less do it. Much less do it without any supervision. I don't really know why I was even doing all that in fact. I have a lot of power. I could already animate three such dummies at the time. A lot more than what the Dursley could have handled. My guess is I was curious about magic and I couldn't resist the challenge anymore.

That and it was a habit.

The next obstacle was money. I simply didn't have any and I wasn't going to use my minions to rob banks or some such nonsense. Even back then I could smell a recipe for disaster from a mile away and risking the exposure of animated dummies to the muggle autorities was the best way to get both worlds after me. Though the image of four dummies robbing the bank and making all their demands by carrying big placards like in the coyote's cartoons was quite humorous.

But as I said, I couldn't risk it.

So I did use giant placards, but on these were prices for some animated toys I started to sell in Diagon. The wizarding world is quite lacking in the area it seems because I made a lot of money very quickly, even after I advertised that the animation would wear of in a month or so. So much in fact that I soon didn't have anyplace to put it. I had bought a shrinkable trunk with expanded space of course, and half a ton of books to put in it. So I love reading. So sue me again. But as I learned, gold and magic very seldom mix well together. That's why Gringots even exist, otherwise everybody would just have trunks keyed to their magic as those fuckers goblins don't give interests on the gold.

How could they give interest on objects anyway?

So I did the logical thing and went to the fuckers to open an account. Actually the logical thing would have to change the money to pounds and go to a real bank but I was a kid so give me some slack. Plus I didn't know about all that and even if I did, normal banks don't take money from eight years old kids with no parents or mute parents that use placards to communicate.

Go figure.

What I really wasn't expecting, because let's face it, history, even the magical one is extremely dry to read at that age (Still is with the stupid books they assigned us in fact), was to learn that I had vaults already. A trust with a small fortune and a main vault with a true fortune and some fancy magical artifacts. I could access the first and retrieve items from the second.

I let the gold for the time being but I took every single item I could safely store in a trunk.

Because let's face it, goblins just can't be trusted. Hell, from what I learned even goblins didn't trust goblins. I'm proud to say that nowadays I don't have a coin more with them that what's needed to have the vault under my name. I still can't access most of it but neither can they. It's divided into various smaller accounts in different muggle banks that I'll be able to touch when I'm eighteen.

I lose a year but it's worth it.

Since then I had three years to learn all I could about magic. That creep Olivander wouldn't sell me a wand before I was eleven but that didn't stop me from learning a good deal of theory along with occlumency that I had started by myself without realizing, runes and arithmancy. Even some ritualism. When I tried practicing in the Express it worked all right. Not perfect by a long shot but I manage up to year four of the curriculum.

Well, I told you that I was a genius.

That red-headed idiot almost managed to drown us all with his clumsiness. I wish I hadn't met him in the train. Stupid purebloods. I restrain myself from commanding his tie to choke him. I really don't want to row myself. Still, we are almost on the shore. Time to stop daydreaming and start to focus on the present. It's my first year at Hogwarts and I'm going to blow their minds.