Harry goes to Hogwarts after growing up in an Orphanage, where he learned all about a certain Tom. He makes friends (allies) and he may become a dark lord in the process, that is if he doesn't fall in love with one first. And he does it all with his...
<AN> This is my second fic ☝️😁, so I hope you like it. It's honestly probably trash, but everything I write is anyway so... Thanks for clicking, enjoy! <^><^><^> "talking" Thinking/memories 'think speach between Harry and V' Writing ^parsletongue^
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Summary: Harry meets dumbledore.
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Harry felt... different. He didn't know if it was a good different or a bad different, but... he didn't feel like he usually did. The eleven year old was unreasonably smart, and was often labeled a prodigy. He could read novels before he graced the age of 5, could articulate words with perfect grammar and pronunciation before he was 4, and could walk with elegance before he was 3.
Maybe these skills came from his own sense of self survival, or maybe they came from the fact that nothing was ever his. So he did what any child would do when nothing was rightfully theirs, and hogged everything given to him. Whether it was books, food, or simply clothes, he had a deep connection to his belongings. A fear that someone would take them was always lingering in the back of his mind.
That's possibly why his first bout of accidental magic was when Dudley tried to steal his horse figurine. A figurine that Dudley had previously grown tired of and literally threw it in the trash. He was 5 and some would say he didn't know better, but Harry knew what he was doing. He knew that if he wished hard enough he could make things happen, bad things.
So when Dudley's hair set on fire, and the adults called him freaks and gave him his usual beating (it wasn't so bad then, just a few hits with a belt until he bled) it wasn't a surprise to him.
But as Harry grew older, and the beatings got harsher, so did his accidental magic. He was 7 when his aunt Petunia and uncle Vernon said they had had enough. So they took the boy; shoulder length black hair, emerald eyed, and covered in scars to the nearest orphanage, and sprayed some story about how he'd run to them for help, how he'd lived on the streets from the looks of it, and how they wanted him to have the best life he could. It was an utter load of bull shit.
So the special child found himself in an orphanage, but he didn't stay there long.
Harry bounced around from orphanage to orphanage, because each one noticed how special Harry was, how easily Harry could bend things to his will. They were scared. Blood pumping, heart racing, pee your pants scared. And not just because of Harry's accidental (but sometimes purposeful) bouts of magic, but because he never talked; he glared.
