The Evil Eye Alchemist

A Sorakage Sama Production

Prologue: The Boy Who Lived

And if a single hair on Harry's head is harmed by these people, I will personally demonstrate what kind of agony the inventor of the bat bogey hex can inflict upon you- Professor McGonagall

Robert Burns once said: "The best laid schemes of mice and men go often askew." In laymen's terms, no matter how well a scheme is planned, that single overlooked detail will change everything.. Take the life of Harry Potter/Elric. He was a perfect example of how the ripples of fate can affect people in ways we can't fathom. His life was planned out from the beginning. He was to be the perfect savior that would pull the world from the jaws of damnation. But a single error in judgment would alter his future in ways no one could expect.

Mr. and Mrs. Dursley of Number four Privet Drive were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much! They were the last people on earth you would expect to be involved in the supernatural or strange. They just didn't fit the bill, no matter how you looked at them.

Mr. Vernon Dursley was a huge beefy man with almost no neck, a ton of flab, and a gigantic mustache that looked like a caterpillar was nesting under his nose. He was also proud to say that he owned the largest drill manufacturing company in the world.

Mrs. Petunia Dursley, on the other hand, was the total physical opposite of her husband. She was thin as a rake and had more than three times the amount of neck as an ordinary person. This tended to come in very handy when she practiced her hobby of spying on the neighbors.

Their son, Dudley, was the spitting infant image of his father. Fat, spoiled and perfect in every way, in their opinion anyway…

But, they had a secret, a secret that if it ever got out would utterly ruin their carefully cultivated reputation of ordinariness. The secret was about Petunia's sister and her husband, Mrs. Lily Potter, and Mr. James Potter. The fact was that the Potters were about as abnormal as humanly possible. And because of this, Mrs. Dursley denied having a sister as vehemently as possible. They denied any association with the Potters, lest their "unnaturalness" rub off on their perfect little son.

But enough with the introductions… on with the story.

It all started on a gray Tuesday morning, on a gray day, of a gray month, on a gray year. There was nothing to indicate to anyone that anything, mysterious or, dare I say, supernatural, was happening all over the world.

The first thing out of the ordinary Vernon noticed was the cat that was reading a book perched on the wall bordering his property. He jerked his head around so quickly that his neck bones cracked. The cat actually seemed to wince in sympathy. When Vernon looked a second time, the book had vanished. The Tabby was there, but the copy of Othello was gone. Vernon shook his head as he drove away, he could have sworn that the cat was reading the street sign. But that couldn't be right? Cats can't read, right?

The day passed normally for quite some time, right up until Vernon got caught in a traffic jam. He did another double take as he looked out the car window and spied a group of unusual people clustered on the side walk. People wearing cloaks.

"The nerve of some people!" Mr. Dursley growled under his breath.

Then came the owls.

As Vernon drummed his fingers on his desk, he waited for his morning report.

"HOOT! HOOT! HOOT!"

The fat man's eyes bulged as he saw more than a dozen owls swoop past his office window.

"I didn't see any owls! I didn't see any owls! I didn't see any owls!" Vernon mentally chanted.

"Do you believe it? Harry Potter beat the dark lord!"

"Really?"

"You're kidding! You-Know-Who is gone for good!"

Vernon shot a withering glare at the fifth group of people wearing cloaks that he had walked past since he left work to get his pre lunch doughnut.

One of the men whirled around and shot Vernon a perfectly beatific smile.

"My dear sir! Even Muggles such as you certainly have a reason to celebrate today!" the man giggled happily as he threw his arms around Vernon in a totally unexpected hug.

The stranger let go and ran back to his group, leaving Vernon totally flummoxed and trying to discern why a total stranger had not only called him a nonsense word, but just hugged him out of nowhere.

As he staggered away Vernon was stopped in his tracks for a second time.

"Did one of those weirdoes mention the Potters" Vernon internally gulped. At that moment, Vernon made a mental note to interrogate his wife about the whereabouts of her freakish sister, her bum of a husband, and their equally abnormal child.

It was late that same, night, the land was totally dark under a moonless night sky. The only illumination to be found was under the dim glow of the street lamps.

POP!

With a small crack of displaced air, the most unusual looking man to ever step foot on Privet drive arrived. He was tall and slightly stooped with age, a silver beard long enough to tuck into his belt grew from his wizened face.

As he walked softly down the road toward number 4, the old man pulled out a device that resembled nothing more than an over sized silver lighter. As he opened it and clicked the switch, the light of the street lamps were sucked into it like matter into a black hole.

As the strange man looked around his eye twinkled madly as he spied the tabby that was still sitting on the wall, even after all this time.

"I should have known you would have an interest in this venture, professor McGonagall." Dumbledore chuckled.

The cat leapt off the wall and quickly transformed into a rather sever looking older woman in a flowing black robe.

"Is it true Albus? Is Voldermort really gone?" she almost pleaded.

"Indeed, I saw his body myself…" the ancient wizard replied.

"And the Potters?"

"Also gone I'm afraid. All that's left of their family is little Harry…"

"I thought as much…" McGonagall sighed.

'But there is a silver lining to this, young Harry is still alive and Hagrid is bringing him here at this moment."

Professor McGonagall lips pursed as she shot the headmaster a disapproving glare. "You don't intend to actually give Harry to these people? They are not suitable caretakers for young Harry! They are the worst kind of people!"

"I'm sure that they will prove to be adequate guardians…" Dumbledore replied evenly.

"And if a single hair on Harry's head is harmed by these people, I will personally demonstrate what kind of agony the inventor of the bat bogey hex can inflict upon you!" she growled.

Dumbledore twitched as he remembered the last time she used that hellish spell on him.

"I vow on my magic I will watch Harry with the utmost care." the elderly man promised as the mystic energies within him responded and bound him to his oath.

Their conversation was interrupted by the roar of a motorcycle. As the pair turned around and followed the sound and looked up. Dumbledore's eyebrows rose almost above his hairline as he watched the flying motorcycle the large man was riding land with an unhealthy sounding crunch. At the moment both thought it was better simply not to ask.

As the giant maneuvered off the bike, the pair noticed the tiny bundle clutched in the man's arms.

"The 'ittle tyke fell asleep while we were flying o'er Devon. D'idn make a sound, e'en when I pulled him out'a what was left o' his house." The large man rumbled.

The strange trio crept silently up to the house, the giant placed the baby on the doorstep, planting a scratchy kiss on the child's forehead.

The giant let out a howl like a wounded animal as he sobbed at the top of his lungs, tears pouring out of his tiny beetle like eyes.

"Now, now Hagrid," Professor McGonagall chided gently, "you'll wake the muggles."

Dumbledore placed a letter next to the sleeping child, hoping that when he was found, the missive would explain everything.

It was several days later that Dumbledore decided to make good on his promise and check on the last Potter.

He took out his scrying mirror and tapped it with his wand murmuring an inaudible incantation.

The image swirled, until it focused on the image of Mrs. Dursley. Carrying little baby Harry toward what appeared to be an outdoor swimming pool.

As the ancient wizard could only look on in mute shock and horror as the woman tossed the child into the pool with a splash!

"This will teach you to contaminate my son's toys with your unnaturalness, freak!" she screamed.

With that, she calmly strolled into the house as if nothing happened.

Even before the child fell into the pool, Dumbledore ran to the apparition point in his office, he disappeared with a loud crack.

He reappeared in the Dursley's back yard and waved his wand at the pool.

"Accio, Harry Potter!" Dumbledore bellowed.

With a huge splash, the sputtering, wailing child shot out of the water like a cannonball and gently settled into his arms.

As he shot the house a poisonous look, he noticed Petunia looking out the window, she backed off with a squeak of fright when she realized she was noticed.

CRACK!

Petunia let out a squeal of terror as she whirled around

"Did you do this?" Dumbledore asked, his voice a hushed, barely audible, whisper.

Petunia sputtered before attempting to make some sort of challenge against the professor. "Of course!" she snarled, shooting the year old infant in Dumbledore's arms a vicious glare, as if he was the one at fault. "The boy's nothing but a complete waste on my families finances! He's an abnormal freak like the rest of you! You...you should be thankful I waited as long as I did to drown him!"

Dumbledore's express became colder than the most frigid arctic wind. And for an instant appeared truly terrifying. Petunia experienced the terror that drove countless dark wizards to their knees, and earned Dumbledore the title of the only one Voldermort ever feared. With a soft snarl he leaned into Mrs. Dursley's face, his twinkling blue eyes now as dark as a storm-tossed sea. He glared down at her with a look that could almost kill and an aura of unfathomable power gathered around him as he slowly drew his wand.

Petunia, pale as death, wet herself.

Dumbledore sighed to himself as he looked at the infant child sleeping peacefully in front of him. For the first time in many long years, he didn't know what to do. The Dursleys were young Harry's closest relatives. Now that they were no longer…available to look after Harry, Dumbledore was stuck between a rock, and a hard place.

The ancient Wizard once again looked over the combined Potter/Evans family tree as he tried to discern a solution.

That was when Dumbledore noticed something. A length of the chart was burned away from the left side, obliterating one of the family lines. The scorching was unnoticeable unless you looked very closely. Most people would simply pass the jagged edge off as damage from the long years. But Dumbledore wasn't most people.

The elderly wizard's eyes widened as he cast a repair charm and looked over a previously unknown branch of the Potter Family that lived in the far off nation of Armestris.

James Potter's forgotten distant squib cousin Trisha Elric and her husband Holenheim.

Maybe the situation wasn't so hopeless after all.

Glossary for this Chapter

Magic: the mysterious energy harnessed by witches and Wizards that allow them to change the world around them as they see fit.

Albus Dumbledore: Headmaster at Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry, also known as one of the most powerful wizards on the face of the planet. He is widely known as the only one that the Dark wizard Voldermort ever feared.

Minerva McGonagall: Deputy Headmistress, head of Gryffindor House, Transfiguration professor at Hogwarts. Quite powerful in her own right, she is considered to be Dumbledore's second in command, often taking over in his absence.

Hagrid: The groundskeeper of Hogwarts. A gentle giant in every sense of the word.

Harry Potter: Often known as the Boy-Who Lived, he was the only known survivor of the unstoppable killing curse the ended the lives of hundreds of people, including his parents when he was one year old. This was the act that vanquished the worst dark lord in the history of magic.

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