Avatar: A Harry Potter Story

Prologue

Book One: Air

The grass was green today. It's almost never green where I live. Droughts are common in the small valley town of Goldenville. Tucked away in the corners of England where nobody goes. Everything is either always golden, grey or brown here. Never green. Hence, the name of the town. Though whilst the luscious grass was green today, I wasn't going to waist my time with it. Today had been my last day of school and I'd never been happier. Eighteen years of insufferable teachers, abusive relatives and bullying counted on it. Now I was free. I was going to leave Goldenville and never return. I would find my God-father, maybe even settle down somewhere with him. He could tell me about my parents. And I could finally be ha-

"POTTER!"

I groaned and stood up, grunting when I hit my head on the low hanging ceiling of the sorry excuse of a bedroom that has been my living space for the past eighteen years. A small, dusty, dingy closet underneath the stairs. Me being the short boy that I am, never used to have a problem with the height but though I am still small for my age, it's been getting annoying since I've grown. "HARRY!" The voice shrieked again and I tried to ignore my throbbing head. "Yes? Aunt Petunia?" I asked, wincing. Wow, it really hurt this time. "You know how to take a picture? Don't you, boy?"

My Uncle Vernon and my Aunt Petunia weren't the nicest of people. Vernon, a walrus of a man seemed to despise me with every bone in his body. Like I was some kind of parasite that he could catch a disease from. My scar repulsed him. What scar you may ask? Well, a long time ago my parents Lily and James Potter were in a car accident. I was with them. They died but I was the only survivor. The only souvenir I have from the crash is a tattered old photo album and a lightning shaped scar etched into my forehead. Many people were wary of the scar. But none treated it as badly as Uncle Vernon. Aunt Petunia on the other hand saw me as a bright opportunity for a maid. Or butler. I don't really know anymore. But I do the cooking, I do the cleaning, I do the gardening, I do the errands she doesn't think I'll screw up. She doesn't hurt me like Uncle Vernon does. My mother was her sister of course. But that doesn't mean she doesn't hate me. Because she does. I'm just as a parasite to her as I am to Vernon. Then  there's Dudley. Oh Dudley. He's probably the closest thing I'll ever have as a friend in this place. Like my Aunt and Uncle, Dudley grew up resenting me and treating me terribly, but a few years ago I guess he realized that what his father was doing to me wasn't funny anymore and that he was a terrible person. He changed. He tried to help. He never bucked up the courage to stand up to his father but he washed my gashes and iced my bruises. He took care of me and dare I say I'll miss him when I leave. If I leave...

"Yes, Sir. I know how to take a picture," I muttered, trying my best to be polite. "Good, take the phone and take a picture. Our Dudikins has just graduated!" Petunia squeeled, kissing Dudley's cheeks. Though uncomfortable, Dudley seemed extremely happy as I took the photo of him in his long black graduation robe and hat. I was still wearing mine but it was as if I hadn't even gone to school at all in their eyes. "I'd like one with Harry," Dudley said and my eyes widened. He tried his best not to smile. Petunia began to laugh. "Oh now, my Duddy-wuddy. Don't be daft. Take more, Potter!" She snapped and I lifted the camera to take another shot but Dudley snatched it from my hands before I could press the button. He put it on selphie mode, put his face next to mine and grinned. "Cheese!" I was still so shocked that when he took the picture my mouth was slightly ajar and my eyes were wide. I looked like a deer in headlights. But a few times worse. He looked at the photo and immediately began to laugh. "I'm keeping this one," he grinned and I sneered at him, trying to hide my own smile. "Should you really be wasting your storage with pictures of him?" Aunt Petunia asked airily and Dudley looked up at her, at a loss as of what to say. I was about to step in but suddenly there was a knock on the door. "Go get it, Potter. Go!"

I skidded through the kitchen door, passed my cupboard and opened the front door. "Hello?"
I rose an eyebrow. No one was at the there. I narrowed my eyes and closed the door. Suddenly there was a knock on it again and my Uncle barked at me to open it. And I did. My eyes widened. Standing behind the threshold were two people. Teenagers. Both of them were in what looked like tribal wear. I noticed the boy first. His hair was hard to miss. Standing at 6,3 compared to my 5,11, I stared up at the boy. He had short, firey ginger hair, a broad smile, thousands of freckles, pail skin, rosy cheeks and what looked like a crossbow and quiver attached to his back. His deep blue eyes full of excitement. Next to him stood a girl about my height. She had light caramel skin, large curly hair and a smaller smile gracing her lips.

"Can I help you?" I asked and the red headed boy chuckled. He was about to speak but the girl quickly nudged him and he grunted angrily, rolling his eyes.

"Does Harry Potter live here?" She asked and I pursed my lips. "Yeah, that's me," I replied and both beamed. "Perfect! You're coming with us,"

"Potter! Who is it!?" My Uncle screamed before the entire Dursley family trudged into the hallway. The minute they saw the two tribal teenagers my Aunt and Uncle's eyes widened and Petunia pushed me out of the way. "What do you want?" She spat and the girl grimaced, taking a step back. "We're here for Harry Potter, Mrs," she said and Aunt Petunia made a weird squawking sound that she always made when she laughed. "What would you need this thing for?!" She asked hysterically and I swallowed down the lump in my throat. A tick now in my jaw. "That is confidential Ma'am. May we come in?" The boy said politely and Aunt Petunia sounded incredibly disrespected. "No! No, you may not come in! I think you ought to leave!" She shouted and everybody, except for the two tribal looking teenagers yelped when the sink in the kitchen made a loud gurgling noise before bursting. The upstairs bathroom sink began rattling and the hose in the garden looked like a snake on steroids. "My begonias!" My Aunt screeched before rushing to the garden. Uncle Vernon ran to the kitchen and Dudley to the upstairs bathroom. I remained at the door, staring at the two teenagers. "Who are you?" I asked hesitantly and the ginger sighed. "No time to explain mate. You coming or not?" He asked and I hesitated again. "You can't possibly want to stay with them?" He motioned to Aunt Petunia hitting the rearing hose with her purse. Suddenly, I grinned like a mad man and ran to my cupboard. I took my backpack, packed the little amount of clothes I had and most importantly, I packed my small tattered photo album. I came out a few minutes later and grinned at them. Yes, I didn't know them and yes, they could easily be serial killers for all I know but anything is better than the Dursley's. Suddenly, Dudley came thundering down the stairs and frowned. "You're leaving?" He asked sadly, towering in front of me.
"I'm sorry, Dudley. But I can't stay," I sighed sadly and he nodded, his eyes drooping. I pat him on the back and was surprised when he hugged me instead. "I'll miss you cousin. You were never a waste of space to me," he muttered into my shoulder and my eyes widened. He let go and nodded. "Go! Before they stop you!" He said. My heart gave an almighty lurch. I would really miss him. At that moment, a sopping wet Uncle Vernon bolted into the hallway and saw me with my backpack, standing beside the teenagers. "Potter! Get back here!" He shouted. The ginger boy grabbed my hand and shouted "Run!"

"GET BACK HERE BOY!" My Uncle screamed but before he could make it to the driveway, the three of us were out of sight.

Heaving heavily, we ran a couple blocks before running into the preserve where thousands apon thousands of pine trees made it nearly impossible for my Aunt and Uncle to find us if they tried. "Who are you people?!" I asked again and they stopped running, slumping against the trees to catch a breath. "I am-Hermione. And this... is Ron," the girl, now known as Hermione heaved. Ron lifted a hand and waved. His back hunched, his hands on his knees with his head pointed to the ground. His hair a sweaty blood orange mess.

"We've been looking for you for ages," he said, looking up. "Why?" I inquired.

Who'd be purposely looking for me?

"Because you're the Avatar of course,"