Disclaimer: I don't own anything
Chapter 1: Pain
`Dammit, this is getting to be too much,' a tired Harry Potter thought as he rubbed the aching scar on his forehead. It was another vision from Voldemort. Tonight he decided to torture a family. The two adults both had blonde hair and blue eyes, both beautiful people. They also had a daughter about five, Harry presumed. She also had blonde hair that was in pigtails and she had blue eyes. It was one of the worst things he had ever seen in his life. The Deatheaters raped the little girl in front of the sobbing parents, then put the girl under the Imperius Curse, and forced her to kill her prone parents that were tied up. They then proceeded to take it off, tell her to look at what she had done, then kill her after her sobs quieted down.
Harry also felt all the pain at the same time. He felt the little girl being raped. He felt the parents' angst and helplessness at watching their daughter being raped. He felt the parents' horror as they watched their daughter walk towards them slowly with a knife in her hands, seemingly under a trance. He felt the little girls' sadness after the Deatheaters told her what she had done. He finally felt the clincher of them when she got the Death Curse thrown at her.
Actually, Harry thought getting `raped' was the worst part. Not only did he feel it, but the humiliation that came with it. It disgusted him that the Deatheaters would do something as sick and sinister as that.
After the pain had died down a little, he got up to write Dumbledore a letter telling of the occurrences that night. Then he figured all of them were dead and that there was nothing he could do, so he forgot about writing the letter.
A funny ting happened since Voldemort took Harry's blood. Seeing that Voldemort was connected to the Deatheaters through the Dark Mark, and that Harry was connected through Voldemort by blood, Harry could now see the more horrific of the Deatheater attacks. He hardly saw Voldemort anymore, but he seen a Deatheater attack every night. Now that Harry thought about it, it really was not all that funny. The kicker was that the Deatheaters wouldn't leave the Dark Mark, so the Ministry thought it was a new crime ring or new Dark Lord about.
That meant the bumbling oaf, or Minister Fudge to everyone else, still didn't believe Harry. Harry now figured that he could have manipulated Fudge after the Third Task, knowing that the story was a little hard to believe and Fudge still wouldn't have believed him if he would have brought Voldemort back himself to shake the minister's hand. He probably should have said that a new Dark Lord had risen with all of Voldemort's former Deatheaters with him. That might have got the ole' bungler in action. Probably not.
Harry figured that he should probably stay the rest of the night, well morning since he could see the sun. Harry walked over to the window and watched the sunrise. He started to reflect on the summer he had. He now stood at 5'10" and put on some weight. He now weighed a hundred and forty even. He put on a little muscle mass, since he would do push-ups, sit-ups, squat-thrusts or whatever he could do to make sure he was tired out enough that after the vision he would be able to sleep. He also would jog before all of this. That probably did more harm than good. He could no breath easier, but he had a bad back, feet, and knees since he didn't have any good shoes on to support his arch.
He finally got a haircut that he liked too. He asked his Aunt Petunia, the giraffe-horse mix of a person. Harry thought that you should not breed those two animals together. His aunt was thrilled that he wanted one. She was even a little impressed with the results, though she wouldn't tell the brat that. Knowing him, and she knew him like the back of his hand, she knew it would only make his ego bigger. Harry liked the haircut, not just because it was out of his eyes, but also because it made it look like his head was taller, therefore making Harry look taller. Not that Harry was vain or anything. He was very comfortable with his appearance seeing it looked like he wore an extra baggy skin suit to primary school everyday. Harry was just uncomfortable with his height. So any improvement was a good improvement.
Harry also studied a lot over the summer. Not by choice, but by the ultimatum the Dursley's gave him. Either he cold do whatever he wanted (which Harry figured was a lie, and that consisted of him going outside to pull weeds), or he could be locked in the house with his school supplies. The Dursley's figured, like any normal teenage boy, he would vie for option A. Harry was no normal boy by wizarding or muggle standards, so he chose option B. he would have chosen option A if he didn't have a particularly shrewish potions' master. Harry didn't think pissing him off on the first class day would have been smart (but he usually did, whether it be his fault or not).
Harry now knew all grade books that he had been issued by heart, even the fifth year ones since Dumbledore thought he shouldn't leave the Dursley's premises unless he was in dire need to. Therefore, Harry got his whole fifth year texts for his birthday from Dumbledore. Oh, joy! Harry thought he shouldn't be so cynical of the gift. Most anyone would be honored to receive as much as a piece of scratch paper from Albus Dumbledore. Dumbledore also threw in a few books Harry enjoyed thoroughly. The New and Revised Qudditch Through The Ages, Elements, and How To Make Your Own Magical Sword.
Harry couldn't wait to go to Hogwarts now to try those last two books out. He was interested in the element book because you didn't need a wand, it was hard, and you could travel through the element or elements you have. That meant no more running around Hogwarts and floo powder. The down side was, traveling was almost impossible and you had to know the exact location you wanted to go to, unlike apparating that you only needed a general area and you would go to the place that would be most acceptable for that person. However, if you had the right elements, you could also bring other people along with you. Harry found that he had three elements. The magic involved was so weak that it didn't attract the attention of the Ministry, causing him to be expelled. The three elements Harry had were Thunder, Myst, and Starlight.
Thunder was a complete offensive element. That meant he could only attack with it, no teleporting with it. He couldn't send lightning bolts at people, that would be Lightning, but he could attack with booming sound waves. It was also represented by a grayish color. You found your element and color by chanting the spell, and the name of your element would come from your head, telling you your element in the color.
The next element was Myst. It was represented by an emerald green and was a completely passive element. That meant he couldn't attack with the element, but could travel with it, and take an extraordinarily large amount of people with him. He got all the element information from the back of the book. Only four people in registered history had Thunder, two had Myst.
The tricky element was Starlight. It had no precedent information on it, meaning Harry was the first. An alarming bright white light, outlined in purple, represented it. That was the only way Harry figured out his element through his squinting eyes.
Harry also was interested in swords since he pulled out Gryffindor's sword in second year. It would be like his very own legacy if he could make an awesome sword. He wanted to make a long sword in the style of Excalibur, but not in a broadsword fashion. Harry wasn't that strong, and wanted to be able to use his other had for his wand. He decide he would make it impervious, so it wouldn't break; sharp, for obvious reasons; and act like a wand for his elements, that way he would be able to have it be concentrated in a general place. Needles to say, Harry couldn't wait to get to Hogwarts in a little under a week.
Harry was thinking, as he did so often about the particular topic of defeating Voldemort. So far, Harry could sympathize with his dislike of muggles. They both have lived with the worst kind. Harry had heard the tales Uncle Vernon would tell Harry when he was younger about the horrors of the orphanage, just to make Harry do his work. Harry figured now that Vernon was probably lying to get him to do Vernon's bidding, but still, Harry had heard some of the tales himself on the news.
Harry also knew that Voldemort wanted immortality, and that he practically succeeded once before. What if Harry became an immortal first though? The thought didn't make Harry happy at all. He wanted to see his parents again. If it were the only way to stop Voldemort though, he would do it. He figured Voldemort might get a little scared if he found out that there was another super power around the corner. Granted, Dumbledore was extremely powerful, but he said himself that he didn't have the powers Voldemort had. Harry just had to figure out where Voldemort kept his information on becoming an immortal. `Ah, can't think right now, but it would have to be somewhere where only he could get to it, because he no doubt knows if one of his "loyal" Deatheaters got a hold of that information, he would go after being an immortal. I'll come back to that,' Harry thought.
Harry also realized he had an obsession with Hogwarts. `Why, why, WHY? He has too had a reason for wanting Hogwarts so badly, besides turning it into a school for the Dark Arts. He could just build that anywhere. No, there has to be a reason. Well, he is the heir to Slytherin… that's it! He wants into the Chamber of Secrets; probably because he is the only one to be able to get into it, and that is probably would be where his notes for becoming an immortal are.' Harry felt particularly proud with his deduction that would make Hermione proud.
That brought a bittersweet thought to his brain. All his friends, Hagrid, and Sirius had all fussed and worried about him. It felt good at first that people cared for him, but it got a bit annoying when all Ron would talk about is not to blame himself for Cedric's death. Harry didn't. His scar hurt, therefore he couldn't push Cedric out of the way, and he didn't say the ill-fated words that sucked the life out of Cedric. Everyone who wrote him said exactly the same thing. Ginny even wrote him telling him, `Harry, if you ever need to talk, I'll be there for you.' That made him laugh. He would talk to Hermione or Sirius about something, not Ginny. He did feel a little grateful for her act of kindness; it was if he did want to talk to her, she would probably run in the opposite direction, blushing as if she was competing in a `How Red is Your Tomato?' contest.
Even Sirius babied him like that. Except for Hermione. He was glad she had brains. She did the whole routine for a dew weeks, then figured he got tired of it all, and started to talk about her summer. Granted, it wasn't much exciting than his, with the studying and what not, but was a pleasant change. He found out that she didn't go to Krum's this summer because she was never serious with him. She just went with him to the Yule Ball with him because no one else asked her, and he just sort of followed her around like a lost puppy at the school. She did say it was very flattering, but a little annoying.
Harry felt bad that he didn't even consider asking Hermione to the Yule Ball, but just as friends of course. He felt even worse because after that letter, the next letter from her was his birthday letter. Everyone got him some kind of `dealing with grief book,' except Dumbledore, Sirius, and Hermione. Sirius got him a Pensieve, which he said, `you'll be able to go back to the Third Task and see that it wasn't your fault,' which Harry thought, going back would just make his nightmares worse if he wasn't having visions about Deatheaters or Voldemort. That turned into his `vision collector' as he dubbed it. The said thing was, when he went back to look at the Deatheaters more closely, he felt the pain all over again. Dumbledore wouldn't be too happy when he came back out, when he jumped in to look at the Deatheaters and there patterns.
Hermione's gift was by far the most thoughtful gift. It was like a snow globe, but instead when you would shake it up, up would get a mini qudditch game to watch. The glass orb was a little bigger than a softball, and you could select your favorite teams to play.
Harry was woken from his thoughts with a sharp knocking on his door, and a demand to make breakfast for his `family.' Harry shrugged it off and made his way downstairs to make his insufferable family breakfast with a spring in his step. For Harry now knew what he wanted to do when he grew up. He wanted to be an Immortal.
(AN: How was that? my third fic. Started to get tired with my other ones, but they will be continued. I kinda took the idea of moving around with elements from WhiteThunderDragon. So that's where I got that from. Well, if anyone likes this story, let me know if you want me to follow a Hogwarts type POV, or follow Harry around, telling what he does. This story will hopefully go faster than my other stories because this lil' story has been floatin' around in my noggin' longer than the other ones. Peace.)