Freak of Nature


Harry Potter was always called a "Freak" by the Dursleys, the wizarding world often reviled him, and the muggles ignored his abuse or added to it... After all of that abuse, is it any wonder that Harry is going to make the world of the wizards and muggles regret calling him a "Freak?"

Dark Harry. "Evil" Harry. Harry/Luna

AN: I'm starting this story on a lark, for fun, as the plot bunny got stuck in my head. I'll update it as it comes to me, but my focus is going to be the "Harry Potter And The Aspects Of Death" story as I promised to finish that one. Either way, I have a feeling that I will be posting at least one chapter in each of these stories per week.

Chapter 1: From the lowliest...

"Freak!" "Perversion of Nature!" "Idiot!" "Waste of Space!" were only a few of the epitaphs and curses that were hurled at Harry Potter on a daily basis. The only reason he knew his real name was because his name was the only one left on the teacher's roll-call on the first day of school. When asked by the teacher why the boy didn't reply when called, thinking that the child was already being a trouble-maker on the first day of class, the child replied that "he always went by Freak"; much to the humor and laughter of the other children. Beat down physically, abused emotionally, treated as a slave and all the "authorities" in the community of Surrey did was turn a blind eye and join in on the slander that was perpetrated by Harry's Aunt, Cousin, and whale of an Uncle.

"Shouldn't insult whales that way." Harry thought to himself as he was locked up in his tiny cupboard under the stairs. His only entertainment was the brief glimpses of the telly that the Dursleys had left on while they went out to eat dinner. If the Dursleys had been home, then there would have been no way that they would have been watching the television show that was currently gleaming from the set. Some show like natural geographic was on; discussing the nature of the world and the place that "Man" had in the "natural order," or as the show seemed to suggest, the "unnatural order." The narrator spoke about the nature of predator and prey on the veldts of South Africa, it spoke of the life under the rain-forest roof in Brazil and southern Ecuador, and then it made a passing point that no other species than man had transcended the food chain to the extent that it did. All over the world, animals and insects, plants and bacteria balanced each other out... All except for in the "world of man," the sterile controlled concrete encrusted world of man. It was this minute point in the presentation that struck Harry with an epiphany. It was a gestalt moment, that point when all of the experiences in Harry's miserable life added up to a flip of a switch, and a single controlling thought took over Harry Potter's mind. Looking away from his view of the television through the cat-flap, Harry looked around at the spiders, centipedes and cockroaches that had been his lifelong companions and "friends."

"The Humans are all freaks of nature," Harry postulated in a strange moment of clarity; the destructive actions of his Uncle and his Cousin foremost in his mind. He continued to think. "The humans don't belong here; they just hurt us too much." For Harry did not think of himself as a human. The toll of being beaten like a dog, treated like something subhuman, like an animal, had conditioned his mind to consider the creatures of the world to be his kin.

It was in this epiphany that Harry realized that he had a new mission in life. Mankind had to go.

"But what can I do?" Harry questioned, looking around at the creepy crawlies that had always been his companions. He was constantly being beaten down, hurt, and if it wasn't for his ability to heal quickly, he was sure that he would have been dead by now. He knew that if something didn't change, he would most likely die, the victim of one of his Uncle's beatings that "went too far..."

Holding out his hand to the wall, a cockroach crawled up his arm, its antenna quivering as it crawled into his palm. He had always had a certain affinity for the insects and animals found around the Dursley's household and Little Whinging. After all, if they were seen or heard, they would get smashed just like Harry was smashed down whenever he was seen or heard. Moving his arm so that the roach was at his face level, head and quivering feelers facing towards Harry, he asked "What should I do? Little one, you are always so active, surely you know how to out-survive these bloody Dursleys and their kind?"

The roach's feelers seemed to quiver, its head moving back and forth and its maw seeming to snap, as if it had tried to answer Harry's questions.

"I wish I could understand you little guy... I wish so much that I was like you and able to do what I please, get food like I please, adapt to this hell that I'm bloody living..."

Now if this statement had been made by your average abused little child, sadly nothing would have happened. Harry Potter, however, was anything but your average abused little child. Neither the abuse that had been heaped upon Harry nor the makeup of his DNA was average. For Harry Potter was an incredibly Powerful wizard.

At his wish, his innocent but most fervent wish, Harry's magic woke up...

Surging through Harry, it took the intent of his "wish" and examined that which he was holding. Cockroaches are amazing creatures. Disgusting to some, seen as a pest by many, but you have to give them props for being amazingly adaptable and have the ability to pretty much survive anything. It was encoded in the roach's DNA, the ability to change it at will, to adapt its physiology to that which it pleased... That which it needed to survive... No, not survive... That which would make it thrive!

So it was that Harry Potter's "accidental" magic both changed the makeup of his being, not to look like a roach but to have the ability of a roach, and the ability to talk to the "lowly" creatures of the earth...

/Hungry Brother...?/ A sense of a voice issued up to Harry from his hand. /I feel food in, beyond, past, crack... get past wall that opens and find food.../ The little roach seemed to say to Harry, though Harry didn't know how he understood the insect.

Startled, Harry jumped a bit and focused more at the roach in his hand. /Um, are you talking to me?/ Harry replied hesitantly to the roach...

Quivering its antenna, Harry distinctly heard from the roach /Yes Brother... Now, am hungry... am always hungry... Can we Eat?/

/We all hear you Brother... Can we eat?/ Quivered and scratched other voices from around him in the darkness.

Wishing to see what was making the voices, Harry noticed that his vision quickly adapted to the lack of light in the small cupboard. As his eyesight changed, his vision got a bit blurry. Moving to remove and check his glasses to make sure that they hadn't gotten broken in his surprise, he noticed that he could clearly see every nick and ding in the glasses in his hand; even the bit of scotch tape that held the bridge of the glasses together. Looking up and around, he noted hundreds, no thousands of crawlers, centipedes, millipedes, spiders and roaches crawl from out of the foundations of the house and onto the walls of his cupboard. Smiling, he realized that he could finally speak to his little friends.

Then he frowned, /I'm sorry, but I don't know how to get out of here. I'm locked in/ He told his little crawling friends as a few alighted on his arms and sat on his knees.

/Locked?... What is this locked?... You either push through it, or climb around it... we do not understand this "locked..."/ a particularly large spider said from his knee.

Hmmm, he thought to himself. I've never really attempted to push through the door. What was another broken hand when he had experienced so many before. Rearing back his hand to punch the door, expecting it to be futile and a bit painful, Harry put his shoulder into it and struck the door.

*Bang!* The punch blew the door open, shattering the cheap particle board that where it attached the lock and latch. Though the door was made of relatively flimsy wood, it still should have resisted the blow of a 10 year old child.

It was then that he noted that his hand didn't hurt at all. Looking at his knuckles, Harry saw an almost chitinous layer of what looked like a thin tan exoskeleton slowly absorb back into his hand.

Smiling to himself, he realized that if he could get this to cover more of his body, then maybe his Uncle's beatings wouldn't hurt too much...

Crawling out of the cupboard and through the broken door, Harry straightened up and walked down the hall towards the kitchen. He figured that he was already going to get into trouble, so he might as well get some food out of it...

Food... He thought with a gulp... God he was hungry all of a sudden. Normally he would be used to living with the hunger pains of the slow starvation and deprivation that he had always known. But for some reason he was hungrier than he had ever remembered.

Walking to the kitchen, his little "brothers" and "sisters" streamed out after him, a wave of insects crawling along the floor and the baseboards of the hallway. Into the kitchen and to the fridge they followed him, where he opened it up to see what was in it. As usual, the fridge was packed full... Seeing so much lovely food in front of him, he absolutely couldn't help it, He began to grab food and simply shove it into his mouth.

Fruits, vegetables and meats, both raw and cooked, were shoved in his mouth and devoured with glee. A smile crept across his face as he ate food for the first time that week.

He didn't care if it was raw, or even if it was meant to be a main dish or a condiment, he spilled the entire contents out of the fridge as fast as he could... only to sit on the pile of frozen and defrosted food and begin to gorge himself... he simply couldn't satiate his hunger.

His little friends joined him, nibbling around the edges of the pile, both Harry and his "siblings" being careful not to get eaten, or eat, in the rush on the food. Harry ate, and ate, and ATE... he swallowed bottles of ketchup, he guzzled his Aunt's fresh orange-juice, he ate the package of raw bacon in smashed up chunks, and he still wasn't full... Whole raw eggs were followed by week old oatmeal and freshly cooked steak leftovers. Whatever it was, he didn't care, and his stomach didn't seem to mind that he was eating more than several times his body weight in food.

All this time, a noted change began to be seen on Harry's body. It has to be understood that if Harry had been any other child, he would have been dead. His body before that night was that of a famine victim, his body beaten and scared like prisoners of the dreaded Russian gulags or Nazi prison camps... in short, he had been little more than a walking corpse. This should be kept in mind when also realizing what the authorities had been turning a blind eye to, or joining in with their insults on the small child.

It was with the gorging of food that Harry's body began to change... to fill out, to grow. His muscles grew from strings of tendons that had been cannibalized to survive into cut raw strength. His white complexion caused by lack of vitamins and minerals changed from its pasty white pallor to that of a rosy glow. Even his bones and skin that had been broken and mended many times healed and erased any semblance of abuse. His gorging was turning into a density of muscle and health that could only be the combination of magic and the natural DNA manipulation that kept the cockroach healthy through a nuclear Armageddon. An underweight 10 year old child of 45 pounds suddenly turned into a fully grown 10 year old who was weirdly full of dense muscle, clocking in at 160 pounds.

Finished with the food from the refrigerator, Harry's eyes scanned the kitchen, looking for more food to fill his stomach with, he felt like he had 10 years worth of eating to catch up on. Standing up, careful not to step on any of his friends, Harry walked to the pantry. Throwing it open, he saw that it was stocked with cans of soup, vegetables and other components for the meals he normally had to make for the Dursleys. Grabbing out cans, he accidentally squeezed too hard, causing the can of tomato paste to explode and shower the floor and walls with the red goo... much to the enjoyment of Harry's little crawling siblings.

Grabbing out another can of soup, this time crème of mushroom, harry pushed his thumb through the tin can's lid and guzzled back the soup. With his other hand he grabbed a box of dried pasta, and started munching it by the mouthful. He was so intent on eating the loudly crunching pasta was he that he didn't hear the garage door opening, heralding the return of the Dursleys from their dinner...

Petunia was the first to enter the kitchen from the door to the garage, and what she saw immediately made her Scream!

*Ahhhhhhh!* She yelled, her legs giving way at the sight of her once spotless kitchen covered by the debris of the fridge and swarming with thousands of insects.

/Scatter! / Thousands of little voices cried out and they all began to swarm around the room, some running up Petunia's legs, causing her to stomp and dance her feat around in screams of agony and as she tried to escape the room and at the same time smash the insects.

Pushing herself back on all fours in a backwards crab walk, she was going as fast as she could back towards the door into the garage... just in time for her head to impact strongly with Vernon's "man-bits" as he ran in through the same door...

Fortunately for Harry and his friends, the chaos of Petunia screaming at the top of her lungs and Vernon buckling over and screaming like a little girl covered for him to make a break out of the pantry and back to his cupboard. Quickly closing the door to the cupboard, Harry hoped that he would be overlooked in the chaos. His insect friends quickly streamed out the garage door and into the night, while others shimmied under the crack to Harry's cupboard or under the refrigerator, making a mostly clean escape.

Wincing with pain, Vernon stumbled through the kitchen, attempting not to slide on the slime that was on the floor, he made his way to Harry's cupboard.

Throwing open the cupboard door Vernon didn't realize that he wasn't the one to break the latch on the door. Reaching in, Vernon wrapped his hand around Harry's neck and proceeded to drag him out into the open, not noting the change in Harry's complexion or weight due to his fury and pain.

"I know you are responsible for this you little Freak!" He spit in Harry's face, cabbage and sausage from his earlier eaten dinner splattering out of his mouth. "We can't leave you at home like a normal child, not even for one night without your unnaturalness ruining our lives!" He reached back and backhanded the silent child in his grasp with all his strength... Only to feel his hand break when it impacted Harry's cheek. What normally would have broken a child's neck instead shattered all of the small bones in Vernon's hand.

Screaming again in pain, he dropped his hold on Harry's neck and clenched his hand to his chest. Looking down at Harry, his vein throbbing in his forehead he winced, "Go clean up the mess! Don't expect to eat for a week after this you miserable excuse of human waste!" Vernon grated.

Keeping his head down, Harry smiled slightly to himself, making sure to have it wiped off his face by the time he exited the hall into the kitchen. The look of pain on Vernon's face was worth it, let alone the chance to eat so much food. Harry didn't feel hungry any more, for the first time in his life he actually felt really good.

"Things were going to change in his life." He thought. Harry didn't know what he was going to do, he didn't really have a plan or a goal yet, but ideas were starting to percolate in his brain. Yes, oh yes, he would make those freaks of nature pay. Human kind had been at the top of the food chain for too long. It was going to take some effort, but he would make them pay for what they had done to him and his friends. With that thought, he went into the broom closet to get a mop and start on cleaning the kitchen. It was going to be a long night of chores... but strangely, Harry didn't feel tired in the slightest.

AN: Well, did you like it? I have the story plotted out, so can write quickly or not at all depending on people's thoughts. This story is going to go through cannon, but with a VERY different Harry. Please review and let me know if this plot idea interests you or not.