Disclaimer for this page and all succeeding pages: The only things I own are the new ideas added onto what other more prominent people in the world own, and the OCs. So yeah. No copyright infringement intended, no money is being made out of this. This is purely for fun and fan entertainment.
Senyor Fier Mensheir
A bright green light raced from a robed figure that had just, moments before, downed two particularly strong warriors, in their own right, and was in the process of assuming the triumphant position in the world. The Magical World that is, or just Magical Britain for the time being, the man that was nearing his goal was still not as powerful or influential as his predecessor in the Dark Lord business. Gellert Grindelwald, now that was a Dark Lord, one with an attainable vision and the means to achieve it, if only the Americans hadn't interferred, and if only Japan hadn't been so overconfident.
The bright green light moved at ta snail's pace from the point-of-view of one Harry James Potter, aged one year old, his intelligent emerald eyes had witnessed what the green light had done to his mother. It had made her stop moving. That was enough for the child to know that it was a very bad thing that the light was headed in his direction.
But he had also seen his mother not avoid the light, she actually got in its path. So he decided, even at such a young age, not to move and face the thing head on, like a brave little Gryffindor should, not that he knew what a Gryffindor was.
As the light finally touched his skin, the man that had sent it his way grew a little bit happy at the sight, that was when time seemed to move even slower, it almost seemed like time had actually stopped.
The light was seemingly absorbed into the child's body, it coursed through his body like his blood did his veins. It was rather unnerving how such a foreign energy could simply do that. It was hungry, searching for something, something that it desired. The energy seemed to be alive for some unfathomable reason, it was probably due to it having come from a living creature.
While the foreign energy raced through the child's body in search of the completion of its objective for invading the boy, the boy himself gained a sudden change, his eyes grew even more intelligent, his mind's potential grew in a way, as did his body, and his innate magical ability. His reserves grew with every moment that the foreign magic coursed through his form. It was a chain reaction, his body, or some instinct within him, was making him undergo a sort of evolution. Something in him knew what the green light actually did, and it was moving to prevent it from happening.
He was changing at a molecular level, and it was all happening thanks, in part, to his magic, the other part was most likely or possibly his survival instinct.
The energy, the magic, finally found what it had been searching for, but unfortunately for it the life force of the child as well as his very soul were protected by a defensive layer of an astounding will to live, a powerful ancient magic, and the child's magic. There was such a strength in the power of the barrier that the foreign magic could not even dent the barrier between it and its target.
When it tried to push harder, as it was supposed to, the very magic itself was powered in part or mostly by the will of its caster, by the will and intent of the caster, that it could do nothing else but bulldoze its way, or try to, through anything that stood in its path. The Dark Lord, Lord Voldemort, was a man or monster that couldn't stand it when things actually stood in his way. He strove to rid the world of anything that could hinder him even a little bit, one such thing being his mortality. Another being the other person or being stated in a prophecy that concerned himself. Prophecies, while not real most of the time, was something which could not be overlooked for there was still a possibility of it being real. A slim possibility, but a possibility nontheless.
The harder the death magic pushed, the harder the barrier became, it was as if the battle between the two forces was lasting an eternity, when in fact not a moment had moved in the world beyond the borders of the shell of the soul of one Harry Potter. Then a single moment passed by, the Dark Lord's face contorted into horror as the Killing Curse he had sent the young child's way was flung out of the small body and sped over to his form. He didn't have a chance to move out of the way due to the sheer intense ferocity and speed of its ejection. While it may not have been able to get its target, the magic decided to take something else from the boy as compensation for its loss. It took the boy's ability to be entirely human, it took away the child's ability to care about the difference between good and bad. All it left the child was the sense of selfishness and survival of the fittest.
It had left the child barren of somethings, while left it with a base for forming its own future. The death magic had killed the innocence of the child and left in its place a monster. Its master would have been pleased had he known what his magic had wrought, as well as if his very own magic had not ejected him from his mortal shell, flinging him into a disoriented wraith of his, now, former glory, sending the less than a spirit to far off places unknown even to itself for the better part of the next near decade.
The child was more than simply self-aware, he hungered now, just as the energy that had unleashed the monster within him, the one that everyone had in them, locked away in the deepest and darkest depths of the human being, the human mind, and the human soul. That innate animal within him had been unleashed upon the world, sort of.
He crawled out of his crib and made his way to the source of the green light, he poked the body with his chubby little fist. The body didn't react to his touch, thus he decided that well, it was better if the bodies that littered his room did not go to waste. What remained of them would be better used by something else immediately.
The Potter family had been living in a secluded part of the world, hidden away by powerful magics that hid them, like a secret, from discovery by the enemy. It was left on the shoulders of one entity to hold their secret, the Secret Keeper, to keep them safe. Unfortunately for them, this highly trusted individual had thrown away their trust like a rotten dishrag and shared the secret with a monster that was to become less feared in the future as compared to a monster that had been unintentionally released or created.
There were other select people that knew the secret location of the Potters, one of two families that were at the top of the Dark Lord's hitlist, the other being the Longbottom family. One of this select group of individuals just so happened to be Albus Dumbledore, a powerful and wizaned war veteran, he also happened to be the first to arrive at the scene of the murder, the second to arrive was his ever loyal henchman Rubeus Hagrid.
Dumbledore retrieved Harry Potter from the relatively devoid of life house and handed him off to Hagrid for safe keeping until such a time that he would summon his henchman with the child to be delivered to a place where the boy would be forced to live for the rest of his childhood. The house was also devoid of bodies of the recently deceased, all that remained to be found had been the clothes of the recently deceased, even the Dark Lord's own garments were left on the ground, a pile of them. But his wand was also missing which pointed to the possibility of an accomplice being present at the time of the attack.
Perhaps it had been the secret keeper of the secret of the Potters' whereabouts that had been present during the execution. Dumbledore could only really speculate, but there was something else in the house, one which could not be seen with regular eyes. The house had a concentration of dark magic in it, the place reeked of death magic. The foulest of the foul of stenches of magic in the world.
The boy had survived the Killing Curse, that much Dumbledore was certain, and that was what he informed the press as soon as they heard the news through the grape vine.
Sirius Black was then hunted down for leading the Dark Lord to the Potters' location, ending in their deaths, but since it also lead to the Dark Lord's demise the man was shipped off to Azkaban instead of receiving the Kiss as he rightly deserved. No trial was held, not that the public knew about it, but the Ministry needed to be seen as doing something, like most governments are wont to do.
Harry Potter was delivered to Number 4 Privet Drive where he would spend the next ten years of his life in the cupboard under the stairs, Dumbledore had left a letter detailing what was expected of the Dursley family, but also left a note in it stating that the family would be left alone, not to worry about anyone checking up on the boy, and the like. Dumbledore was aware of their views about magic, and knew what he was getting the boy into, the harshness of the world. He was counting on the Dusleys to train the boy into getting accustomed to how cruel the world was in order for him to want to change the world for the better so that others would not have to live the life he lived.
The Dursley family were thrilled when they realized that they could do whatever they wished with the boy placed in their care, they tried to train him to become their willing servant or slave, but they failed miserably as the boy kept doing something freaky whenever they tried to scold him. Babysitters never wanted to return a second time to keep watch over the little terror, Dudley also grew to ignore his cousin instead of try his hand at bullying him, it just wasn't a safe practice.
The teachers of Harry's elementary had leared early on not to bother Harry in any way that was not related to his studies. He took his privacy seriously, as well as his personal space. He would respect those that respected him and kept away from those that didn't care about it one way or another. But what he didn't like was people that got in his way, insulted him, invaded his personal space, or people that refused to listen.
The reason why the teachers learned early on to ignore Harry was because one teacher had decided to punish him for his arrogance, since he had told her that she was wrong with one of the things she was teaching him, he didn't know why she claimed he was arrogant, but she did have him stand in front of the class and was whipped by her ruler. Her clothes were found by her locker where police found half of her remains crammed inside of it. There was no blood though. Her corpse also looked as if a wild animal or a pack of wild animals had ripped into it.
From that day forward, as well as the criminal investigation that followed but had yet to turn up anything useful other than possibly charging a kid with next to no solid proof that he did it, no teacher or student for that matter bothered Harry Potter.
When he was in grade school Harry was treated much the same way when several bullies vanished on day only for their clothes to be found in gym locker rooms and their corpses found in separate locations, each one looking to have been left half eaten by some pack of wild animals. The last person they were seen as having bullied was none other than Harry Potter. Investigators took one look at his almost frail-like form and scoffed at the idea of him having done something so inhumane and preposterous.
By the time Harry turned eleven his body count had rise to close to a hundred, ranging from school bullies that most students didn't miss to actual criminals and the occasional annoying cat lady, the kind that loves cats more than people. Not all of the people that Harry had taken out of the circle of life were bad in the eyes of the law or most people's moral code. He had a taste for the flesh and blood of humans, though he did have a thirst or hunger for something else. That being the reason why he stopped half way through every meal, they all had lacked something he was looking for, something which he had consumed in minute amounts as a one year old.
What that thing was, was Magic.
Harry not only consumed the flesh of his victims, but everything else, from blood to organs. He even sucked out their souls reminiscent of a magical race of soul suckers that were bound by ancient magics to serve the government of Britannia.
He gained from each time he killed and consumed, he acquired graeter strength, speed, and enhancements to the physical aspects of his being, he also gained some additional skills and some bits of knowledge. He was in a way like the characters in a role-playing-game gaining experience with each kill and gaining a larger range of a skill set with each level gained, though in his case a level was just a kill. He got some money as well as items, but not all the time.
His eleventh birthday brought him the knowledge of what he yeared for, as well as the actual considerable supply waiting to be consumed by him. There were many with magic in them in the world, he had only to find them. The unlocking of the hidden darkness within him as well as his lack of inhibitions had the effect of also gaining him another form, or more forms. There was his human form, which seemed weak, and his Hunter form which was what he transformed into when he was on the hunt and feeding.
His relatives didn't keep the first letter away from him, they actually wrote down his acceptance to attend the school well before informing him of a world hidden from the eyes of most people where he could go and never have to return to them ever again, where he could blend in with his own kind and hopefully never darken their door ever again. They didn't really like him at all, but at the same time they only lived because he had need of them.
Harry accepted the fact that they were trying to get rid of him. So he chose to leave, but since he wasn't in the habit of leaving witnesses, he set Number 4 Privet Drive on fire and made sure that his relatives wouldn't be able to escape the incinerating blaze. The smell of burning flesh wafted through the neighborhood, some people actually swore that it smelt like an over the top barbecue what with the smell of too fat pork.
Harry didn't care, he had the magical world now at his dining disposal, he had a lot more to consume now, and this time he wouldn't be leaving a corpse as evidence of his deeds. Not that he knew quite what he would be leaving yet.
He needed to erase all other possible connections he had to the neighborhood, and thus began his cleansing of it from himself by taking care of all of his former babysitters, those girls and women that didn't really do much save for boss himself and his cousin around before he did something that caused them never to want to come back, of course there were a few that never did come back to their homes even. Their bodies had been found in their boyfriends' backyards.
He took them down one by one, tearing into them so fast that for the first time he was leaving more than just a corpse, but shredded clothes and more of the body than before. He wasn't hunting, per se, he was on a mission to decimate all that had a lot more memories of him. Magic was real, thus so was mind reading and memory viewing, he didn't need his evil deeds discovered. He started with the youngest of those that had at one point in time or another been in charge of him and moved on to the older ones from there. The last one being Arabella Figg, the crazy cat lady. Apparently she knew quite a bit about magic, but didn't possess it in the amounts that Harry was hoping for. But he did get his basic introductory knowledge from her.
He knew the names of important people as well as generalyl important recent events starting with the end of the last war which he himself had ended somehow, he had a feeling that his incomparable will to live must have had something to do with it. He also learned about the general terms used in the magical world like pureblood, halfblood, and muggleborn. The information formed a kind of booklet or encyclopedia of some sort in his, rather organized, mind.
He used the Floo and arrived at the Leaky Cauldron where he politely asked the bartender to open the entrance into the alley for him, the man obliged, and he thanked the man before walking off into the relative safety of the alley, of Diagon Alley. It was night by the time he walked down the path of paved cobblestones, he made his way, in muggle clothes, to the dark alley that most seemed to be avoiding. There was a lot of magic there, he could taste it in the air, the different sources of the delicacy.
As soon as he stepped into the darker shadows alley grew even more quiet than it had previously been, the whispers in the dark ceased as the dark creatures felt something that caused their instincts to tell them to get the hell out of the alley, Knockturn Alley, as fast that they could by any means necessary. Of course being the stubborn asses that they were, they chose to stick around and wait out whatever this potential danger was. They were the dark creatures after all, the most feared by the wizards that ruled the Magical World. What was this one sudden threat that caused their base instincts to scream at them to run for their very lives.
What was Harry Potter indeed.
The shadows coalesced around his small form. He then changed within their cold embrace, the gradual changes hidden by the black mist that shrouded his figure. From a scrawny eleven year old, messy black haired, emerald green eyed, and glasses wearing boy, he transformed into his Hunter form. One emerald eye morphed to a crimson ruby while the other into a dark amethyst. He also gained a third eye lid more commonly known as a nictitating membrane. His nose moved inwards as not to hinder him as he ate, it also grew into slits ones that could close at his will in order for nothing to get in. His teeth morphed as well, growing sharper and in a way comparable to an combination of the teeth of predators of the animal kingdom, from piranhas to sharks to the big cats to even crocodiles and serpents. He had their teeth, and could switch between blades at will depending on his cutting or piercing needs. Then there was also the serpent or snakelike ability of his to gain a greater maw which would allow him to swallow his prey whole if he so wished, scientifically impossible but not when one is an everready bunny battery of magic. His skin also changed, from a mere thin coat of protection from minor gashes and scrapes, it toughened up matching the protection of a basilisk's or a dragon's hide. His hair as well underwent a semi-transformation, it turned slicker, as if gaining a kind of outer layer to each strand making each and every single one feel as slimy as a slug, but the strands could also be moved about by Harry, they writhed on his head like a den of serpents, each one also with the ability to lengthen into tentacles. The last outer physical change were his hands and feet, they turned into claws, the slashing, ripping, tearing, and piercing, kind. He could scale walls with, or even crawl upside down on the ceiling with them.
When the shadows hiding his changing form finally curled away from where he had stood, he was no longer there. He had already began his hunt for the first of many a morsel to feel his ever growing unsatisfied hunger for flesh, blood, knowledge, souls, and magic.
He was already creeping along the walls, in the shadows of outcroppings, windowsils, and the like, his form moved. His transformation was in a manner of speaking similar with that of an animagus transformation, his clothes were transformed into something else, possibly adding to his hide, or body coloring.
He moved unhindered slinking along the walls and using his senses, all of them, to locate his first magical meal in the nearly forsaken alley. His eyes pulsated occasionally with an unearthy glow of power, but otherwise they could simply see clearer in the dark, they sapped some of the magic in the air and used that to add fuel to their night vision.
His nose picked up and analyzed all the scents and smells around him, differentiating each one, identifying the ones he knew and cataloguing the ones he didn't for when he eventually found out what they were. This sense could also sense magic, but not in such a magic filled environment, and it wasn't that strong yet.
His ears he used to pick up all the different sounds around him, doing the same as with the smells, but he could not hear magic, but the panicked breathing and beating of the hearts of his prey, now that was something else. There was a number of them, but with such sounds echoing off of walls and other structures, pin pointing their exact locations was such a bothersome activity.
He also used his tongue in the same way that a snake or serpent would, tasting the air, though tasting shit in the air was a tad bit bad, he never really did like the taste and smell of it. Both senses working hand-in-hand. He could, in a manner of speaking, taste the magic in the air. There was just something different with magic, something that made it stand out from other forms of energy or power. The main difference and uniqueness of it was that it was in a sense alive.
Harry didn't know how true that was, though it was doubtful that he would anytime soon.
Even though his hands and feet had gained claws, or the fingers and toes had turned into them, they were in a sense retractable. They could shift back to being the most sensitive parts of the body that were used when it came to the sense of touch. He could literally feel the vibrations around him with this sense, and when his hands and feet were occupied, he still had his tentacle like hair that had the abilities of his skin and tongue.
His first prey was what was known as a hag, they were said to love children or so the information Harry had gaiend from Arabella Figg claimed. It was ironic that a child was what ended the lives of a coven of Hags, all of them falling prey to the claws and maw of Harry, his tentacle like hair could also harden into spikes or spears, which he used to tear these magical beings apart.
He gained some upgrades and enhancements magically from the consumption of the Hags, they had nothing on them that peaked his interest. As many things in the magical world could be used in item creation and potion making, their effects were directly transferred to Harry's body, the good ones only that is. He also gained a greater ability for illusions and persuasion. He could be like the piper of Hamelin when speaking to children younger than himself.
For once in his life he was actually half full from his kill and meal. But there was still room in him for more, which prompted him to spit out a hag's skull which he hung on the wall using a hardened strand of hair as a hook. He moved on from there before anyone approached, as he couldn't afford to be seen.
He roamed the alley, following his senses to the oldest thing in the alley, some instinct telling him to go for the oldest thing there. He didn't know why he was following that instinct, but he guessed that it didn't really matter. A meal was a meal was a meal after all. His senses and instincts hadn't steered him wrong before.
He was lead through the shadows to a hovel at the end of one of the side streets of the darkened alleyway. There weren't that many things in the place, it was as if it was hidden to all but whatever lived there and him. There was only the scent of his prey, and the slight vibrations it made as it moved within the hovel. There was nothing else alive there.
He leapt off of the wall, and stalked his prey that wasn't going anywhere as it continued to stay in the run down structure, it was even more run down than the rest of Knockturn Alley. He moved closer and closer to it, analyzing all the possible routes of entry, as well as determining the exact location of his prey.
He sensed no fear in the place, as if he was being expected, so he shifted back into his base form that of the Boy-Who-Lived, the eleven year old form of a young tween and knocked on the door to the hovel. Movement caught his still heightened senses, and soon the door was opened from within. He was met face to face with a rather pale older man.
"Yes? How can I help you?" the man asked him politely.
"Why isn't anyone else in this side alley, sir?" Harry asked politely in return, his tone bellying a little bit of true curiosity.
"Ah, that is because I enjoy my privacy, and let only those that are truly curious of the nature of the world to even see the alley," the man said, "You seem like the sort of person I have been expecting. You are not only curious, but very powerful I can tell, else you wouldn't even be here. Welcome, welcome."
"Thanks...I think," Harry said, a tad bit disturbed, "So what happens now?"
"Why don't you come in for a moment," the man said as he moved aside to give Harry some room to move past him and into the hovel of a home. Harry did so and looked around at his barren surroundings. While he was relatively new to the magical world even he knew that a house should have at least had some sort of furniture especially if one were to invite someone inside even for but a moment.
"It looks as if there isn't anywhere for me to rest a bit, since I have a feeling that I'll be staying for a while," Harry mentioned and motioned at the rather empty space.
"Oh you'll be staying for quite a while," the man said, "I can imagine that you're rather confused at the moment, what with you being in the magical world for the first time in your life. I imagine that you were somehow separated from your guide, and wandered into Knockturn Alley on accident. My wards keep out all those in the know of our world, it is to protect myself you see. My wards only let in the newbies, as they, like yourself, are not in the know," he then moved to block the only visible exit from the place, "My wards lure in those that won't be missed, using their own magic agaisnt them, the more powerful the individual the more they will be lured here to my home. You would have probably made waves, but alas...you will not be getting the chance to shine in the magical world. Thanks in advance for the meal that you shall be providing me, your magic shall last me for a hundred years or more."
"I don't think I like where this is going," Harry stated, his eyes visibly hardening, "I believe you somehow intend on eating me or sucking out the magic from me to sustain you. I can't have that happening, not when I haven't had my fill yet."
"What do you think one such as yourself can do against me?" the man said, "Your meat I shall use to make this body even stronger, your blood shall quench my thirst, your magic shall empower me with the healing magics that I need to survive, and your your youth shall make prolong my life and give strength to my wards. There was a prophecy long ago about a monster that would set the world on fire or at least move in the ways of its destruction. My wards keep me from being found, if the world is to die, I would rather live through its destruction than be a part of it."
"I see," Harry said, then shadows began to form around him, wisps of darkness slithering along his body, "Well, I see why I was brought here. The sickly, the young, the weak, are usually the ones that perish in attacks first. They are the most vulnerable," he then pointed a finger at the pale man, "You sir are a coward," he then lowered his arm, and spoke more clearly and more harshly to the man, "I am not yours to consume. No, it is the other way around. You said that the stronger the magic the more likely to come to you, their magic being used against them. Well, I love to burst your bubble. I'm strong, and while you may be stronger, that's where you lose and why you lose. I bet none of your former victims ever fought back."
"Some had tried," the pale man said, as his eyes changed from black as night orbs to red ones, his teeth began to grow into a set of knives, and his nails grew to be a bit longer, "But in the end they all failed to even managed to scratch me."
There was a light whooshing sound followed up by a searing pain originating from the pale man's gut. He looked down only to find Harry's entire right arm embedded in his gut, his hand had also protruded from the man's back and in his grasp was part of the man's spine. The next thing the pale man experienced was a searing pain originating from his chest, it was like a punch at first then as if his heart had been ripped right out of his chest. Looking in that direction he did find a hole where his heart should have been.
"Looks like there's a first time for everything," Harry said as he opened wide in his Hunter form and swallowed the still beating heart whole, then began the meticulous process of consuming his fellow monster, an unknown hybrid, but with a hint of vampire in him.
The memories gained were far too many for Harry to comprehend, most of it was lost to him, the only thing that remained was how to suck blood like a vampire, he also gained that ability, and he gained some workable knowledge when it came to ward construction. He also became full, and it looked like he would be able to move about the wizarding shopping district without having a craving for some magical flesh anytime soon. He was in a way like a serpent.