A Darker World: Prologue
Disclaimer: I do not in any way, shape or form own Harry Potter. It all belongs to JK Rowling.
A Darker World Series
Prologue - 1 of 9
Summary - Harry Potter is not a normal child. He has grown taller than most children and is as tall as some adults. He shows no emotion whatsoever and doesn't speak unless necessary. He has frightened his relatives into submission and scares the other children away with his constant glaring. He has just the one friend. A young girl whom he saved from his cousin's gang. She hero-worships Harry but has no idea that he relies on her friendship completely. When Severus Snape arrives to accompany Harry and his friend to Diagon Alley some interesting things are discovered.
Pairings - mentions of Lily Evans and Severus Snape. None other than that.
A single fluffy white cloud drifted across the bright blue sky. Trees stood unmoving along the road while birds perched lazily upon their branches. Children, always abound with energy, played on the hot concrete, their bare brown legs burning in the hot summer sun.
You'd be forgiven for assuming that this peaceful-looking street housed happy, friendly families but it would be far from the truth.
Privet Drive, for that is the name of this street, found in Little Whinging, Surrey, is the street upon which to live if you desired to move up the social ladder. All the families down this street are power-hungry bullies and very very normal. This normality is disturbed only by one boy who lives at number four. A boy named Harry Potter…
Harry James Potter, aged eleven, was far from normal, as his relatives often liked to complain. For starters, he was an orphan, and his only blood relatives detested him. Despite his aunt and uncle's best efforts in regularly starving him, Harry had grown at an alarming rate and was already as tall as many of the fifteen-year-olds in the area. He invoked fear in his cousin and his gang of friends.
Harry didn't really have any friends. His relatives supposed his height and continuous mask of indifference and contempt intimidated the other children and put them off making friends with him. It didn't help that his silk black hair hung straight to his bony shoulders and made his milk white skin seem even whiter. Upon his forehead was a thin scar, shaped like a lightning bolt. The children were scared of his scar. Harry was sickened by it.
One girl, a scared little thing, had taken to Harry when they were seven. He had stopped his cousin's gang from bullying her and from that day on the girl had followed Harry everywhere. She didn't seem to mind that Harry never paid her any attention or acknowledged her presence in any way, shape, or form.
Harry was incredibly intelligent and he knew it. He never showed off but he made sure everyone knew, in a roundabout way, that he already knew the material being taught. In class, if you dared to look closely at his cold green eyes, you could see the boredom written there. He spent most days glaring out of the window and ignoring everyone around him.
Harry refused to do sports. He didn't see the point in running around getting sweaty and smelly. He would change into his P.E. kit like the other boys but would spend the entire lesson standing stock still with his arms folded across his chest and a mutinous look upon his face. His "friend" often hovered beside him until the teacher demanded she join the other children. The teacher eventually gave up on Harry and left him alone during class.
Harry really liked experimenting. He "borrowed" a chemistry book from the local library and scared his aunt into buying him the necessary kit and items. When he was home, all you could hear from his tiny bedroom would be small explosions. One day he surprised his "friend" by giving her a bottle of liquid. When she asked him what it was he replied, 'A gift,' in a cold, detached voice. The bottle turned out to contain a beautiful-smelling perfume.
Much to his relatives' surprise and disgust, Harry also enjoyed cooking and he was good at it. His aunt soon had him making most of the meals. Harry didn't mind. At least this way he got a decent portion of food.
While Harry was at home, cooking or experimenting, Mandy Brocklehurst was sitting in the public library with her mother. Mandy was reading a thick history tome, much to her mother's amusement. Mandy was an intelligent young girl but she felt inadequate compared to Harry's near genius IQ.
Tucking a chestnut-coloured curl behind her ear, Mandy's thoughts wandered to her "friend". When he was younger, before he had grown into a giant, Harry had often come into school looking very battered. More often than not he had a black eye and walked stiffly and awkwardly, as though in a tremendous amount of pain. It wasn't until Harry realised he was nearly as tall as his uncle that he began standing up to the man, effectively stopping the beatings.
'I'm going home to start the dinner, Mandy.' Mrs Brocklehurst's voice broke Mandy's thoughts. 'Are you coming with me or staying here a bit longer?'
'Can Harry come?' Mandy asked hopefully.
Mrs Brocklehurst and her husband always felt awkward around the tall, silent boy but because he made their daughter happy they agreed to have him over frequently.
'Of course, sweetie,' Delilah Brocklehurst said with a rather forced smile. 'We'll knock for him on the way home.'
'Ok,' said Mandy happily, jumping to her feet. 'Can I borrow this book please, Mummy?'
'What do you want that for, sweetie?' Delilah asked, taking the heavy book from her small daughter.
'It's really interesting, Mummy,' said Mandy, as Delilah checked the book out and tucked it under one arm.
'If you say so,' Delilah replied. 'How was school?'
As Delilah and Mandy walked to Harry's house, Mandy prattled on about her day at school whilst Delilah listened and pondered her daughter's "friend". If Delilah ever admitted it to herself she would honestly be able to say that Harry Potter scared her. Although Mandy occasionally complained that Harry never knew she was there Delilah could see otherwise. She had noticed that despite Harry's efforts he was always hyper aware of Mandy's whereabouts. She was the only person he ever responded to.
'We're here, Mummy,' Mandy squealed.
Delilah watched her daughter rush up the path and rounded up her thoughts with a resounding, 'He's the total opposite of my Mandy and it works!'
'Hello, Mrs. Dursley,' Delilah said, as the door to number four opened, revealing a bony, sour-faced woman with a long neck and malicious eyes. 'My daughter was wondering if it were possible for Harry to have dinner with us tonight?'
Before Petunia Dursley could answer, Harry brushed past her and started down the street to the Brocklehurst home. Mandy ran after him. Delilah shrugged at Petunia and hurried after the two children.
Delilah finally caught up with the pair at the front door.
'There's a letter for you, Mandy,' Delilah reminded her daughter. 'It's on the kitchen table.'
Mandy went to get it, pulling Harry after her. 'Come on, Harry,' she said impatiently.
Harry sat at the kitchen table staring straight ahead of him while Mandy ripped open her letter. Her blue-grey eyes opened wide as she read the letter. Finally she squealed.
'Mum!' Mandy shouted. 'Guess what, Mum!'
'What, sweetie?' asked Delilah from the lounge.
'I'm a witch, Mum!' Mandy said excitedly. 'Isn't it cool, Harry?'
Harry blinked. 'I'm a wizard,' he droned.
Mandy, thinking he was playing a game, giggled. 'Its not a game, silly. I really am a witch. I have magic and everything!'
Harry slowly raised his head. 'Me too,' he said coldly. 'I'm a wizard. My father was a wizard. My mother was a witch.'
It was the most Mandy had ever heard him say and she looked at him in surprise. 'Did you get a Hogwarts letter?' she asked.
'Yes,' said Harry shortly.
'Are you going to go?' Mandy asked.
'Yes,' Harry repeated.
'I think I will as well, then,' said Mandy decisively.
Delilah sighed. 'Can I see the letter, sweetie?' she asked.
Mandy passed it over and Delilah had to admit that it didn't sound so bad. Besides, Mandy could always attend summer school to achieve her normal grades.
'Let's see what this representative has to say first,' Delilah said wisely.
'Ok, Mummy,' Mandy agreed. 'Come on, Harry,' she added, tucking her small hand into the boy's much larger one and pulling on it. Harry obediently rose to his feet and followed his "friend" upstairs.
'Leave your door open, Mandy,' Delilah shouted after them.
The following day, Mandy's eleventh birthday, the three Brocklehursts and, for some reason, Harry, sat in the lounge awaiting the Hogwarts representative. Mandy was sprawled across her parents' feet on the floor and Harry was sitting very stiff and upright. Looking down at him, Delilah thought he looked like a china doll.
A knock on the door had Delilah's husband, Richard, surging to his feet. He answered the door and there was the murmur of voices.
'Sit up, Mandy, there's a good girl,' said Delilah.
Mandy did as she was bid, shuffling closer to Harry who simply blinked in response. The door to the lounge opened and Delilah rose gracefully to her feet.
'Delilah,' said Richard, 'this is Professor Severus Snape from Hogwarts.'
Delilah held out her hand. 'Pleasure, Mr Snape.'
Her mothering-eye noticed the clench of the man's jaw as he forced himself to take her hand in his and shake it.
'All yours, I'm sure,' the man said coldly.
Delilah was left in no doubt what he thought of her family and the temperature in the room abruptly descended several degrees. Harry blinked.
'Mandy, say hello,' Delilah said frostily, dropping Snape's hand.
Mandy clambered to her own feet and grinned up at the tall professor. 'Pleased to meet you, Professor,' she said, bouncing slightly. 'What do you teach?'
'Potions,' the man said shortly. 'Mrs. Brocklehurst, I was under the impression you had but the one child?'
'Yes, Mandy's our only, isn't she, Richard?' said Delilah, putting her arm around Mandy's shoulders.
'That she is.' Richard beamed at his wife and daughter. 'Lucky, really, that I have four brothers all with sons to carry on the name.'
He laughed heartily and his wife smiled indulgently and his daughter giggled. Harry stared impassively and Snape struggled to prevent himself rolling his eyes.
'Who is this, then?' Snape demanded, waving a hand at the still Harry.
'That's our Mandy's friend,' said Richard.
'His name?' asked Snape impatiently. 'If you've told him about our kind then he'll need to be registered as a Muggle with magical knowledge.'
'I'm a wizard,' Harry said suddenly.
Snape frowned. 'Name?' he barked.
Harry rose to his feet in a way that suggested he hadn't moved at all. 'Harry Potter,' he said coldly.
Snape's eyes widened. 'You're no Potter,' he spat.
Harry's eyebrows rose quizzically. 'No?' he queried. 'My aunt did mention my father adopted me.'
This was news to the Brocklehursts. 'Really?' asked Mandy. 'Do you know who your father is, then?'
Harry didn't answer; he was caught in a staring match with Snape. There was silence for what seemed to be an eternity. Then Snape sighed.
'I knew I should never have let those bloody Gryffindors raise my son,' he said.
Harry inclined his head. 'Nice to meet you, Father. May I use your name instead of the one I currently possess?'
Snape snorted. 'Like I'd allow you to continue being known as Potter. We'll sort it out when we go to Diagon Alley for supplies. But first, I gather you have some questions?'
He turned to the Brocklehursts and raised his eyebrows in the exact same gesture as his son. Mandy and her parents couldn't help it. They collapsed onto the sofa and simply stared.
'Right,' said Snape. 'That's a yes, then. Where would you like me to begin?' he added, settling himself in an armchair and watching his son fluidly sink to the floor again and settle into an unmoving position once more.
A babble of questions broke out of the Brocklehursts' mouths. 'This will take a while,' Snape muttered, massaging the beginnings of a headache.
A/N: I'm baaack! I know. I'm a horrible person, submitting a new fic when I've got three others on the go! But this just wouldn't let me be. I had to post it. So guys, please let me know what you think.
Thanks to my lovely beta iGymnast.