Everything belongs to J.K. Rowling.

I am a very new writer. I'm writing this partially for my own pleasure. Expect, AU, harem, lemons, and way Over Powered characters. Expect the normal bashing with different takes on the evil in characters. If people like this and I feel encouraged to write, it will eventually be a mythology/ slight twin-born chronicles crossover.

I am a very amateur writer, as such I would appreciate constructive feedback on my writing. Just saying I suck or that my work is thinly written just means you're a jerk. Pointing out an obvious plot-hole like "why the hell would harry go back if he's being abused" is constructive.

I usually know within the first few paragraphs if I can handle a writer or his story. If you dont like the plot find a new story. If you can't stand my grammar issues, volunteer to be a beta reader and help!

Don't expect any serious rape, disturbing violence, genderbending men, male homosexuality (unless passingly) or MPREG. I don't vibe that way and neither does my imagination. AKA 'Hey man, I know I'm not gay, I've already sucked a dick, I know I don't like it.' (Thats a joke but the ideology still stands.)

this is not going to be a weak harry story. He is going to start from a place of vulnerability but not end that way.

If you are interested in being a Beta reader please let me know.

Chapter 0

Future Drunks or Drunken Futures.

Professor of divination Sybill Patricia Trelawney was alone in her Hogwarts apartment. It was a lavishly decorated set of rooms with a view of the nearby lake and the giant squid within. She sat on the patio staring dreamily into the horizon pontificating the turns of fate and sipping her fifth glass of brandy. It was a cheap muggle brand with a harshness that had long since sent the small woman into an inebriated state.

Her eyes began to cloud over and the barest hint of a glow began to shine forth. Her glass of brandy tumbled from her hand and shattered on the floor.

The smith will rise from the darkness

Broken he will become whole

Bonded he will craft steel

Banished he will conquer

Burned in fire he will be reborn

A king

A king

All hail the king

Through failure one will learn

Through loss one will climb

Through pain one will search

Through power one will ascend

The Great War

The Great War has come

All will know fear

For only one shall succeed

And the other, lost to eternity

Sybill Patricia Trelawney (Patty to her drinking buddies) wasn't much of a seer. A seer being able to see the many possible futures and instinctively calculate the probability. The length of their sight being directly proportional to their power. Sybil, gods bless her drunkin soul was more of a prophet. A prophet could see only two, almost equally probable near term futures.

If Albus Percival wolfric dumbledore had thought more of her he would have known.
If he hadn't considered her a drunk with little more than a splash of talent he would have been prepared. As it was, there was no listening devices within her room. As it was only one creature heard this knew prophecy.

A white owl winged away from the eaves above her patio unnoticed.

Sybil awoke from her stupor ashamed as she looked down at the broken glass. Once again she had gone to far and passed out on her patio. Although she thought 'maybe I am getting better about my drinking it only took five glasses this time.' She stood and stumbled her way to her bed leaving the broken glass for a future, sober, Sybil.

—-

Chapter 1

Loss and Misery

A 15 year old Harry Potter sat at his dilapidated desk staring out of his barred window. He was small for his age and unnaturally skinny. His hair shone a deep black that almost seemed to soak in the moonlight shining in from his barred window. His once emerald green eyes almost looked gray as they were shadowed in with deep circles. He looked exhausted and broken. It was close to midnight on the eve of his 16th birthday.

He wasn't thinking about the day of his birth.

It had only been a few weeks since Sirus had died.

Harry felt numb. The only adult Harry had ever felt close to was gone. Yes he liked Remus, and he felt a passing closeness to many of his Hogwarts teachers. But it had been Sirus he had talked to looking for comfort when the Dursley's had been unkind. It was Sirus he had talked to when he had been entered into that godforsaken tournament. It had been Siruses shoulder he had cried into when Cedric died.

Sirus was dead.

'It's all my fault, if I would have been stronger Voldemort wouldn't have been able to manipulate me.'

'I killed him'

Tears trickled down his face and soon he began to sob outright. The noisey hiccuping sobs of a broken boy filled his room.

"WACK! WACK! WACK!"

Vernon Dursley was at the door, upset that his midnight snack had been disturbed because of the boys grief. 'The freak has been bitching and moaning for weeks now, what's the loss of another freak in this world. He needs to get back to his chores to earn his keep here'

"SHUT UP FREAK! YOU WONT EAT FOR A WEEK IF YOU CONTINUE ON WITH THAT NOISE!"

He shouted through the door, not bothering with the many locks and bolts. In a more conversational but similarly harsh tone he continued.

"I expect you downstairs at 7 o'clock sharp making breakfast. If we can afford to feed you, you can afford to quit acting like a bitch and cook."

Harry dove to his bed stifling his tears unable to respond. He buried his head into a pillow holding in the gasps of grief.

'Why me?' He thought.

'What have I done for all this misery to come to my life'

His pity party continued well into the night as he thought of all the pain in his life. First his parents, then sent to the Dursley's, followed by a madman out to kill him in his first year of school.

His life was one fucked up event after another. Even learning magic, had been downtrodden after learning of the danger for him in the magical world.

'Will I ever get a moment of peace?'

'Will I ever be able to be happy?'

'Is any of this bullshit worth it?'

His mind was filled with the misery and pain in his life. He drifted off to sleep upon a tear soaked misshapen pillow. A cast off of Dudleys, that the Dursley's had refused to let him wash. It smelled of drool and body odor. Harry didn't care. It was the only pillow he had.

Even though he had fallen asleep well past midnight Harry awoke at 6:30. Some instinctual survival skill woke him up with a jolt of adrenaline. After the rapid beating of his heart slowed the misery of his life soaked into him.

Holding back the wave of grief he prepared himself for the unlocking of the door. He changed into a new set of clothes that he had worn a week ago but that he hadn't been allowed to wash. Still it was better than the stench of the clothes he had worn the day before. He then washed his face with the small amount of water remaining in his only water bottle. Well not his only water bottle but the other was filled with his piss.

He wasn't allowed out of his room for something as menial as bodily functions.

If it was a number two... well he had learned to hold it since he had gotten his Hogwarts letter.

He thought about the time since then.

Yes, he was no longer in the cubbard under the stairs.

No, it wasn't for any type of comfort.

It was to have him better confined. Better locks and bars to keep him in. A growing boy was hard to contain in a cubbard under the stairs. A locked room far from the entrance of the house was easier. Out of site, out of mind, at least that's what the Dursley's thought.

The locks and deadbolts on his door began to rattle and turn. The dark entranceway swelled with light and revealed a maliciously grinning "aunt" Petunia.

If he had a light in his room Harry would have turned it on, thus avoiding the sudden stars he had in his eyes at the brightness. As it was, lights cost money, freaks weren't worth that much.

"Get down stairs and get to work, you have 20 minutes until the boys are downstairs."

'Happy birthday Harry' he thought sarcastically.

Harry glanced at his broken watch face, another castoff of dudleys. Through the webbed face he saw that it was 6:50 and knew that his uncle and cousin would already be showering.

Vernon would be getting ready for work, Dudley, preparing for a high end summer camp for "gifted" boys.

Harry knew his aunt and uncle had paid a large sum to get his cousin into the camp. He also knew that it was a camp for the children of elites to socialize and gain connections. Futures in politics, business and shadier ventures awaited those who spent time at this particular summer camp.

He stood from his bed and headed downstairs to make the ungodly amount of eggs and pork his family would consume.

As he cooked he would occasionally sneak a small amount of cooked food into his pocket without his "aunt" seeing him. Freaks did not eat breakfast'

Petunia glared at him as she drank her morning tea.

"Boy, you will wash clothes today. I expect you done by noon, and you may not wash any of your freak clothes with our wash."

"Yes aunt petunia." Harry said, as he held in the smile at finally being allowed to wash his reeking laundry.

He thought back to Hogwarts where a simple 'scourgify' or a helpful elf would clean the days laundry. His mind filled with thoughts of the school that had taught him freedom. He drifted into the groove of cooking. His uncle and cousin lumbered down the stairs into the kitchen and began to fill theirs plates.

"FREAK! THIS BANGER IS UNDERCOOKED! ARE YOU TRING TO POISON ME!"

Uncle Vernons roar filled Harry with dread as he turned around to look at the offending bit of pork.

"No uncle, I cooked everything." Harry said as he stared at the obviously raw meat. His glance at Petunias smirk revealed the plot and is heart fell at the cruelty. They had gotten worse since his escape last summer in the flying car.

"EAT IT!" His uncle said with a smirk.

Harry gulped, it was either do as ordered or suffer a beating now, and a beating later for not being able to complete the wash. But his stomach turned at the thought even as his survival instincts took hold and his feet shuffled forward and his hands reached out to the raw meat.

He wouldn't get sick, for some reason he never got sick from eating the raw food his "family" would force on him. Despite that his stomach was sickened at the texture of the raw meat in his mouth as he chocked down the uncooked food. His relatives looked on in disgusted glee at their cruelty.

"See Petunia, the boy never gets ill, they probably feed the little freaks all types of uncooked filth at that school of his. HA!"

Having finished the sausage, Harry turned back to the stove, stomach boiling at the intrusion of something mankind had not eaten in millennia.

He pulled the latest set of sausages from the griddle and was walking them over to the table when a fresh wave of nausea hit him. He saw stars and his stomach turned against him.

He vomitted as the plate fell from his hand. His mind faded to darkness as the days of malnutrition caught up to him.

Harry awoke to a biting pain on his left cheek followed by swift kicks to his stomach.

"YOU"

KICK

"WILL"

KICK

"CLEAN"

KICK

"THIS"

KICK

"MESS"

KICK

"UP"

KICK

"AND"

KICK

"GET"

KICK

"OUT"

KICK

"OF"

KICK

"MY"

KICK

"SITE!"

KICK

Harry curled into a ball in pain. The kicks hurt but not overwhelmingly so. The man was severely obese and while painful he was not able to cause severe harm. Harry internalized and was once again considering his lot in life.

KICK

KICK

There would be no bruises. There never was. Even when Harry was younger and faced with a less obese Vernon the bruises had healed within minutes and the broken bones within hours.

Vernon finished, breathing heavy and face flushed with an unhealthy purple.

"Hurry up boy!" He said harshly gasping for air, unable to yell because of his exertion.

Harry stood and despite being covered in raw meat and his own bile he began to clean.

With a blank face and a mind filed with misery Harry looked at the knife rack on the kitchen wall.

'Fuck it' he thought

'Today is as good a day as any'

He smiled at the thought of the only birthday present he could give himself. Sweet release.

Hedwig was out hunting. She had stopped him in the past, but she had been gone for a few days and Harry could somehow sense that his familiar was not close by.

Shuffling closer to the cutlery he palmed a small sharp knife into his hand and then eased it into his pocket.

'She was better off without him. Voldemort was back and was after him. Sirus had died for being close to him, everyone else he was close to would soon join him.'

'She is better off without me, Voldemort or his death eaters would get her eventually. Everyone was better off without him'

He thought of Hermione and Ron. He thought about how he had written to them over the years describing the cruelties he endured at the Dursley's. They never responded. He thought of how he had tried to tell them at school but he could never force the words out. After awhile he had simply given up. He thought it was due to his own cowardice or some type of magical Stockholm syndrome.

'They would be better off too'

"GET OUT BOY!" uncle Vernon was screaming again.

"I CANT STAND THE STENCH OF YOU FREAK GO SHOWER AND GET TO YOUR ROOM"

A more thoughtful look came over his face and in a more casual voice he continued.

"Your aunt petunia will let you out after I am gone. I expect all of your chores completed by the time I get home."

—-

Chapter 2

Despair and Hope

Harry practically ran to the shower eager to get out of his bile soaked clothing and to get back to his room.

Petunia would leave him alone for hours. Not out of any type of remorse but more out of a desire to not be near him.

He quickly entered the bathroom near his room and turned on the shower to hide his other activities.

Quickly sneaking back to his room he stashed the knife under his pillow. Grabbing his piss bottle he dashed back to the bathroom.

He quickly emptied the bottle into the toilet and sat down to relieve himself. 'No reason to die with a bottle of piss beside your bed.'

He washed and stumbled back to his room quickly closing the door and laying down on his bed.

He stared at the ceiling and reached behind his head to draw the knife from under his pillow. With his right hand he grasped the knife and crossed his arm over his body. He set the tip of the knife to the skin on his wrist.

What had Dudley said.

"Up the road not across the street, freak"

'This pain is too much. I have to get out somehow.' His eyes began to water and for one last moment he wept outright. Slowly his tears turned from grief to anger, his heart filled with spite and gritting his teeth he prepared to plunge the knife into his tissue.

"Hahmmm" a deep somewhat malicious cough sounded from the direction of his desk. A desk held up only with a stack of books on one side and a leg and a broken baseball bat on the other.

Harry started in surprise, oddly indignant that he had been interrupted during such a personnel moment. Through his tears he glanced over at his desk. He did a double take when he saw nothing resembling a human.

He sat up, wiping his eyes and stared in awe at his desk. Sitting on his copy of Hogwarts A History, was the sorting hat. It's dark brown leather formed a scowl and the eyes created from the surreptitious folds seemed to stare deep into Harry.

The deep voice sounded again with the same malicious tone but now with a touch of kindness.

"And what young man do you plan to do with that knife?"

Feeling indignation at the interruption and sheer awkwardness of the situation Harry replied.

"What's it to you hat? Leave me the fuck alone!"

"I do have a name, you know? And it sure as hell isn't patches." The hat replied snarkily. In a more self reflective voice he continued in a grumble. "Nobody ever thinks to ask my name. Bunch of self obsessed gits, wizards these days. But I wonder if the old man..." he suddenly broke off.

"Boy, I'm here to help you and your being a rude little git!"

Harry gritted his teeth as his emotions suddenly flashed "Don't call me boy!"

"I'll call you 'boy' as long as you have that knife in your hand. Men don't do what you're planning."

Feeling very oddly ashamed at his rudeness and the sheer weirdness of this situation Harry composed himself.

"I'm sorry sir, what is your name?"

"They used to call me Geo short for Geoffery. But after a thousand years of sub-life I feel it would only be right if you called me something at least somewhat respectful."

"Umm"

Harry sat oddly thinking about the problem of just what to call the hat.

"How about professor Geoffrey since your from Hogwarts?"

"HA! and be grouped in with those louts who pretend to teach you magic! I think not!"

" ?"

The hat let out an unsatisfied sigh. "How about something like Master or Sire Geoffrey?"

Harry gave the hat an exasperated look and repeated. It was still just a hat.

"Mr. Geoffrey"

"Hmph. I suppose that will have to do for now."

The hat continued to grumble to himself about age and respect. Harry paused in an uncomfortable silence.

"Mr. Geoffrey why are you here? Did Dumbledore send you?"

The hat somehow glared at him!

"That old devil couldn't send me to the basement at Hogwarts why in Merlins name would I allow him to send me here!"

"Young man do you remember what I told you the first time we met?"

"Um you told me I'd do good in Slytherin?"

"Yes, yes my boy but what else did I tell you?"

"That I had a good mind, and that Slytherin could help me become great"

"No Harry, that's what I said out loud, what did I say in your head,

"I don't remember"

The hat grumbled about meddling old demons for a moment and then demanded.

"Put me on your head young man. We need to take a look at what they have done to you."

Standing up to obey MR. Geoffrey a question popped into Harry's head.

" Who is they?"

"The enemy lad. Put me on your head and we will see what we can clear up."

Harry obeyed and as soon as he put that hat on his head he felt exposed. It was as if the hat wasn't just looking into his mind but into his very soul.

The hat began to rant

"Oh dear boy what have they done to you... Dear god how is your soul not shattered.. ahh there it is... a simple mental lock charm oh and what's this? Some memories have been obliviated, a few compulsion charms have been placed on you... hmm... one to force you to return to the Dursleys, one to prevent you from talking about your time here... great Merlin the abuse you have endured... you shouldn't be alive, but...…. your magic has been sustaining you... ahh and look at your soul! I guess that's why he saw you coming."

"You may want to lay down for this next part it could be quiet painful."

Harry moved back to his bed suddenly concerned if he could trust the hat.

"I'm not just a hat Harry! It is good that you question who you can trust. But understand that I am on your side. I was literally created to help you. When I do this you will feel the lock removed from your mind. You will know that everything up here is organic just from the action of your memories being lifted."

Thinking that he had very little to lose Harry laid down on his bed. The moment his head touched the pillow he was wracked with mind numbing pain.. his body spasmed and twisted and he began to weep. His mind exploded in memories and sensations. All five of his senses had a seizure as they were overloaded, images flashed before his eyes, memories. memories stolen from him. He felt his magic surge at the reunion of his spirit and body. He felt the recognition as his magic accepted the memories.

Dumbledore stood over him smiling his twinkling smile as he placed a spell on Harry. Saying "We cant have you being as smart as your mother or as crafty as your father now can we Harry?"

His mind instantly trailed the results. He wasn't the same after that, taking longer to learn and think. Making poor decisions and having difficulty with the slightest tasks. He had had to work harder than anyone else just to accomplish the same as the average child. Another memory.

He sat in the headmasters office during his first year. He told him of the abuses he suffered at the Dursley's house. It was the very first day of school. Dumbledore had his wand out in an instant and Harry couldn't move. He grinned down at him maliciously as he moved forward. "Don't worry my boy. while I did not think they would be that harsh with you it does not displace my plans in the least. Who knows, this my be the first seed in creating you into a dark lord." His eyes were still twinkling as he spoke the grandfatherly smile never leaving his face. "You won't be able to tell a soul about this or your tormentation…. Maybe one day when you have become devoted I will allow you this memory. As a matter of fact I think we should replace your whole first week in the wizarding world with a new memory until the time is right. I need to be the only magical hero in your life and first impressions can be hard to give up." More images flooded to the front of his mind.

Snape beating him during detention, calling him "James" and then casting a spell. Hedwigs cage catching fire. Apparating across England running from the aurors who wanted to take him bake to the Dursley's. Another spell cast by Mad Eye Moody. Memories flashed through his mind until one sat in focus.

He was sitting on a familiar stool in the great hall. He was saying something out loud and the hat was making him respond but that wasn't the real conversation being had. The hat spoke into his mind.

"Greatness awaits you my boy, you are the one I have been waiting for. Your path will be difficult, there are many who are aligned against you. Know this. Although I cannot act now to save you from your suffering, when your magic matures I will come for you. Expect me on the day you become a man."

Harry Passed out

—-—-

Chapter 3

Awakening and escape.

Harry awoke with a groan.

"What the hell was that!?"

"That was all the locks on your mind being released. Take a moment, regain your senses. Your mind has been fighting that mental block since you were a child. It has had to work harder for you to do even the simplest tasks. Your neurons had to make even more connection to operate and your magic aided you. It's a testament to your magic and tenacity that you are not a bumbling idiot."

Harry sat up and opened his eyes.

It was as if a fog had been lifted. Colors seemed sharper. He could almost taste the air.

He thought he could hear aunt petunia moving around across the house. Her footfalls on the carpet sounding obtusely loud. The feel of his skin against Dudley's overgrown clothes disgusted him. The stench of the squalor found him.

It was over overwhelming.

He began to hyperventilate.

Sitting atop his head Mr. Geoffrey began to soothe him in a calm, commanding voice.

"Focus on one thing boy. Listen to the beat of your own heart to the exclusion of all else."

"That's it, just listen to the constant thud of your heart. Your mind has been overworked since you were a small child. Now the synapses are flowing as they always should have but there is three time more than a normal wizard has. Your magic has strengthened your mind to cope with the burden placed upon it."

"This will take some practice but in the end it will be an advantage. Especially considering what I need to teach you."

A sense of equilibrium returned to Harry's oversensitive mind. His thudding heart comforted him and it began to slow.

"Mr. Geoffrey, why are you here?"

"Do you forget so easily Harry? I have come to help you. The balance has been tipped too long towards destruction and the immortals have left us to fall. It is my hope that once you are trained you will help guide humanity to its destiny."

"Humanities destiny?"

"I know very little of that, but what I do know will have to wait for another time. You must hurry and pack I have been confusing your relatives for long enough and we must go! I have little time until the headmaster returns to the school."

Harry thought for a moment. Wherever they were going had to be better than this place.

That decided he quickly began to fill his trunk with his few useful and sentimental items. The hat appeared on his trunk and it shrank until the hat covered it. When the hat appeared on his head harry ogled at the empty space 'Magic is amazing' followed by another thought.

"How will we get out of here. I can't use magic?"

"Leave that to me harry. Now pack we have to go get your friend. Your going to need help in this journey."

"We are going to get Ron?"

Having recently seen his memories the hat harhumphed

"Will Ron help you study the very nature of magic? Can Ron act as a mirror to your soul, and you to his? Can you share your deepest secrets with him and trust him to stand by you after?"

At the seriousness of his tone Harry paused thoughtfully. Rons attitude during the triwizard tournament stood out to him.

"No"

"Who among your friends can help you to learn and know yourself?"

It was obvious.

"Hermione?"

"Yes Harry now hurry grab my brim and think only of your friend."

Harry thought strongly of her and grasped that hat. He felt a gentle tug behind his navel and found himself in a heap on a tile floor. He was in some sort of washroom.

Harry was pulling himself together when a high pitched scream drew his attention.

"AYYYYYYEEEEEEEE!"

Hazel eyes focused on the heap on the floor

"HARRY!"

"GET OUT!"

Standing in front of him reaching quickly for a towel was a very wet, very naked Hermione Granger.

She had grown quite a bit in the past few years. Youthful but definitely feminine hips curved into a flat stomach which sloped into plump c-cup breasts that seemed large and full on her narrow shoulders. Her nipples stood out proudly on her tan skin, hard and slightly crinkled. Her hair was wet from the shower and her skin shone with the droplets of moisture as she rushed to cover herself with a towel.

Harry's eyes wondered lower and he caught a brief glimpse of a shaven vagina with full symmetrical lips and small protruding inner lips.

"HARRY!"

"GET OOUUUTTTT!"

For the second time that morning. Harry's eyes rolled up into his head and he found himself reacquainting himself with the floor.

He passed out flat.