AN: I figured I should post this here as it is my current big project. It's also the first and only one I've posted on FF.Net. I've actually had flames for the first time, they made me laugh and if they had an account I replied back so politely and thanked them for another review number.
General Dru-Zod walked briskly through the woods, so focused on his mission that not even the invigorating feeling of a yellow sun supercharging his body was enjoyed. He found the caves built by the House of El with the aid of a few of the local primitives. The Kryptonian ignored the vast stores of knowledge surrounding him as walked up to a wall with the emblem of the House of Zod. He raised his right hand and gazed into the red crystal there. Jor-El had denied him the return of his son once, but there were other, if less talented, scientists willing to clone others so long as a piece of DNA was left. Fortunately, it had occurred to Zod keep some of his unborn child's fluids for such an occasion.
He inserted the crystal inside the hidden slot, smiling as the symbols shifted to give him general information. With a few quick touches, his will was enacted. Should his plan for domination of Krypton fail, there would be another who would carry his line. The unborn child stolen from him by Jor-El would be reborn in a human woman and grow to become a god. The House of Zod was destined for greatness, only they were born to rule worlds, even should Dru-Zod perish his will would be done in the form of Dar-Zod. He reached into his pocket and withdrew the training crystal Faora and he had designed for their son. It was most unfortunate they could not raise him themselves as the prince he should be, however, with cloning still illegal and Faora's inability to carry a child to term being well known, it would be a death sentence for them to do so.
"Rule well, my son." He whispered lovingly, knowing that the crystal was unable to hear him but drawing comfort and assurance by saying the words. If his calculations were correct then Dar-Zod, like the crystals of their home planet, would take on any traits of the birth mother that would prove advantageous for his survival. Not much of a chance of that happening on such a primitive planet with weak inhabitants, but still Zod walked away feeling much more assured about his future now that there was an heir for him. A father would want to give his son every possible advantage, of course.
"Lily, are you okay?" James Potter asked quickly, helping his wife get off the dirty floor of the cave. They were in America searching for unusual magic and more specifically the magic of the Native American tribes which was largely unmapped by the Wizarding World. Dumbledore had sent them on the mission, believing it be safer for them to leave England until other things drew Voldemort's attention was drawn elsewhere and off of revenge against them for their latest thwarting of his plans. The cave they had found had radiated some type of magical energy, so they had decided to explore it when Lily was hit by a powerful stream of red energy coming from the wall and thrown down.
"I think so..." Lily frowned, surprised to find herself in no pain. She checked herself out with her hands, making sure everything was in the right place and unchanged. Fine, she seemed just fine. There was an odd warmth in her belly causing her to pull up the bottom of her shirt to look at her stomach. There was a strange symbol on her belly, it looked like a decorative 'Z'. It was very odd, she had never seen anything quite like the sign before. After a few moments the black mark faded, leaving her puzzled. "We must have tripped some kind of defense or something. The beam of magic might have been a warning shot."
"Let's get out of here, get you checked on by a proper Healer. Some spells take much longer to become effective." James suggested, unable to hide the worry in his voice despite his attempt to seem calm. He'd seen some of the spells the ancient Egyptians had used and he didn't want to risk Lily being on the receiving end of any of those sorts of curses.
Lily merely frowned and looked at her belly curiously, rubbing it absently.
**Four Months Later**
"James, I think we need to talk about Harry." Lily muttered to herself, practicing for when she actually was going to have discuss the subject with her husband. Unfortunately or fortunately depending on one's point of view, James just so happened to be behind her and thought she was talking to him.
"What about Harry? Tell me he didn't rip up another toy." James sighed, sounding exhausted as he flopped face down on the couch. Reparo had become second nature to the young father along with the banishing charm. His wife may insist on changing their son's diapers manually but there was no way he would do that. Banishing and Switching charms all the way. "I tell you that kid is going to be a hell of a wizard when he grows up judging by all the accidents we have around here. Wouldn't be surprised if he becomes the next Dumbledore."
"That's just it James, these things happen far too common. I mean, sure I played with magic as a little girl but not like this. Every few minutes Harry has either broke a toy, put a hole in the floor, ripped up a toy, or something else." Lily explained, worry in her voice. She didn't tell her husband about how little Harry had broken her finger accidentally when they were playing. No child, not even a highly magical one, should have so many accidents, especially where strength was concerned. "I think we should ask Dumbledore to come over and check on Harry. If there is anything wrong with him, then the Headmaster should have some idea."
"You're serious about this?" James asked with some surprise as he lifted his head a few inches off of his leather couch to stare into his wife's bright green eyes. She nodded, worry in her eyes. "Alright, I'll Floo the Professor tomorrow and we'll have him check out Harry, but I still believe you are just overreacting. Hey, c'mere." He gestured for her, sitting up on the couch. Lily walked over and sat on his lap, receiving a kiss. "I would rather you be overly worried about our son, than you not be worried at all, eh?"
**Nineteen Months Later**
"Young Harry seems quite healthy." Albus Dumbledore pronounced after thirty minutes of wand waving and incantations. He had exhausted every spell in his repertoire that was designed to check a person's health and mental state, plus a few about the health of one's magic. He turned and smiled at the young parents as relief appeared on both of their faces. "His magic is unusually strong for a child his age. It should be expected that he would have such bouts of accidental magic so commonly. I've seen cases similar to his, though only one where it was daily." He grinned down at the green eyed child as it grabbed a chubby handful of his long silver beard. That grinned disappeared into a pained frown as the baby effortless yanked a small piece out. "Though I must say he has an unusual affinity for strengthening charms. I suppose it would make since if one was so vulnerable at that age. Why, I remember one case where a child was obsessed with levitation. Took me nearly an hour to coax that particular toddler down from the ceiling."
"So, it's normal then?" Lily asked, a smile crossing her face as Harry giggled and waved the piece of beard almost victoriously to his parents.
"Normal? Not in the slightest, but common among children who are powerful especially at such a young age when emotions are raw and powerful. I foresee this young lad becoming quite the wizard someday, though I confess to hoping he takes more after his mother than his father." Albus smiled teasingly with his eyes twinkling mischievously, getting a laugh out of Lily and an offended frown out of James.
"You said that you've only seen one case where it was daily before." James felt the need the clarify, wanting to learn more about cases similar to his son's so that he would be somewhat prepared and have an idea as to what to expect. "What happened in that case?"
"It is a tragic tale, I fear." Dumbledore stated regretfully, his face seeming to age in front of them as it filled with old sadness. He glanced around the room for a moment before taking a seat on the couch. He didn't want to bring up old and painful memories, but Lily and James needed to know even if discussing it was painful for the old wizard. "Not many know that I had a younger sister named Ariana. She was a powerful girl, the most gifted witch I have ever known or heard of and the prettiest. Had she grown to become an adult I dare say I would have been cursing quite a few young suitors. One day when she was ten, she was playing in a field near our house with accidental magic and a group of teenage muggles boys saw her using magic. They demanded she do it again, but she was afraid. They...they beat her and used her. By the time my father found her she was nearly dead and her mind as shattered by the horrible experience."
"Oh my God." Lily whispered, horrified by the story. Terror bean to grip her heart as her mind conjured up images of her son being beaten to death by muggles. Her eyes became watery and James wasn't much better, though he was filled with anger instead of sadness.
"My father killed those boys in a blind rage and was sentenced to life in Azkaban Prison where he stayed until his death. I knew logically that it was only one group of muggles who had harmed my sister, but I wanted to hate them, even if my reason would not allow me." Dumbledore whispered, voice breaking in places and taking regular pauses to gather himself. "So I decided on coldness toward them instead. Ariana was never the same, she was terrified of all men save for my brother Aberforth who took care of her and she was terrified of using her magic. Being as powerful as she was, her magic needed to bleed off and relieve the pressure so to speak, so sometimes her magic would explode from her in times of distress or sometimes without any trigger at all. She...died at fourteen years old and I have blamed myself ever since."
"Lily, we are never letting Harry out of the house." James stated firmly, after an uncomfortable silence filled the room. "We'll just lock him up until he's twenty then we'll marry him off to a rich family, preferably to a Veela if I can manage it."
"James!" Lily hissed, outraged he would make jokes after such sensitive topics, but before he could lay into him she was stopped by the sound of Dumbledore's full belly laughter.
"With your son's affinity for strengthening charms any muggle who tried to attack him wouldn't enjoy the outcome, I dare say." He stated with his blue eyes twinkling madly, certain that his boy would never suffer Ariana's fate. Albus would rather die than allow something like that to happen to another magical child.
**Nine Years Later**
Harry Potter was enjoying the sight of Little Whinging from the height of his school's roof. He had always enjoyed being high up, looking down on the people who made his life hell. It gave him a strange satisfaction to see how insignificant they appeared from high up, like little insects scurrying about to do their little jobs. For someone who had always felt like a freak and told how beneath everyone one he was, it felt liberating to have the tables turned for the brief moments when he was on the roof. It was his favorite place to hang out. The only place he could hang out in peace really, without worrying his cousin's gang had found him. They were all too stupid and lazy to find a way to the roof.
He knew that he was stronger and much faster than his overweight cousin, but the one time he had actually fought back and beat the bullies up he had been sent to his cupboard without any meals for three days, though he had been given some bread and water. For some reason, Harry had always been much stronger than his relatives and Dudley. Stronger than was natural. Harry really was a freak, but what did it mean to be a freak? Did being stronger, faster, and smarter than normal make him a freak or was he just better than them? He believed that was the reason his relatives hated him: he was better than them and they knew it, feared it. His teacher had once said that people fear what they don't understand and that people hate what they fear. That the reaction was normal and natural for mankind.
Harry didn't know if he liked that. If people knew hating people who were different was bad then why did they continue to do it? The answer was remarkably simple to the boy: because they were bad people. He knew there were good people out there, though he had never met them he would hear about them on the telly from his cupboard. He wished he could meet them and listen to their opinions about people, how their behavior could be improved. How does one make an entire population of bad people into good people? Wasn't the job of a parent to teach them bad from good and punish the bad while rewarding the good?
Being a parent sounded an awful lot like being one of the kings they learned about in history class. Perhaps that's all that people needed in order to be good, a king. Someone to rule over them, to teach them right from wrong, to punish the bad and reward the good so everyone struggled to be good. Take the Dursleys for example, they treated Harry horribly inside the house, but in public they acted nicer to him and didn't yell at him or call him freak because they feared their bad behavior would be punished by people. They knew treating Harry like they did was bad or else they wouldn't try so hard to hide it. As he thought about it more, the clearer the answer to his problem became.
The Dursleys needed to be punished for their bad actions. The kings Harry had learned about were sometimes cruel and bad themselves, but the best ones like King Arthur were known to be fair even if they didn't like the person so Harry needed to be fair and just. He was much stronger and faster than the Durselys, but he shouldn't bully them or else he'd be no different than them. He needed to be good and just in his judgments. Harry needed to separate himself from his own emotions, otherwise he knew he wouldn't be fair to them. Only when he judged without emotion would he be just and in the right. Untainted by the anger and resentment he felt. Only someone unburdened by human emotions, only someone who could control their own emotions, only someone who could pronounce judgment without bias was worthy of ruling others and could judge them fairly.
As Harry stood up filled with a new sense of purpose he promised himself that he would judge the Dursleys fairly and use no more force than required. He went into what he called 'slow down' time' and ran back to Number Four Privet Drive, using backyards and alleys to prevent being seen by other people. He might be different and stronger than normal people, but all that would do is provoke them if he revealed himself and he wasn't strong enough to survive all those people. He entered the house normally and walked into the living room where his Uncle Vernon was watching some show on the telly. Harry then did one thing that was forbidden of him in the house, stand between the telly and Vernon.
"Boy, get out of the way." Vernon grunted reflexively, before looking up with a scowl when he orders were not obeyed. "I said get out of the way, boy." When Harry still stood there without any fear or trace of obedience, the man's temper rose. "Get out of the way freak or there will be no meals for a week!"
"No." Harry answered calmly, hiding the fear and uncertainty rising inside of him. "I won't be bullied by you or your family anymore. You all treat me unfairly and that is wrong. I refuse to be starved or shoved into that cupboard anymore while you all live like kings! I will not be insulted, my parents will not be insulted, you are not better than me."
"Freak, I've never hit a child, but I am warning you." Vernon spoke between gritted teeth as his complexion became purple. His two fat hands were clenched into two spherical fists. When the boy did not change his posture, his temper finally snapped. "You ungrateful little bastard. We took you in, we fed you, we payed for your miserable existence and you repay our kindness with disrespect and backtalk!" Vernon rose from his chair rage and stormed forward raising one hand to backhand some sense into the freak. He hand connected to the boy's face and the force of the hit turned Harry's head just as Vernon heard a wet cracking sound as blaring pain came from his hand.
Harry rose one shaking hand to his cheek, unable to believe his uncle had actually struck him. Sure, Vernon had pushed him and shoved him before, even grabbed his hair a few times, but he had never actually hit him. Anger rose inside of Harry and the boy punched the bent over Vernon in the jaw knocking the man back into his chair and causing it to overturn. Now it was Harry's turn to stalk over, a glare on his face filed with such sudden hate that it looked far out of place on a boy his age. He stood over his uncle and was about to bring down his fist when he noticed the torn flesh on Vernon's jaw. It was so deep that he could see the white of bone with strips of flesh hanging loosely from the wound.
Fear and guilt filled Harry's heart as he struggled to pick up his obese uncle. It wasn't the dead weight so much as the awkwardness that made it so difficult to lift the unconscious man. Without pause, Harry slowed time down and ran for the nearest hospital full blast knowing where it was from the one time that he had beaten up Dudley. "Don't die on me, Uncle Vernon. You aren't bad enough to deserve that and I really don't want to go to prison!"
Hours later Harry had intimidated the Petunia and Dudley enough for them to know things were different now, yet he had forced himself to apologize to Aunt Petunia for losing control of his temper and hurting Uncle Vernon. Vernon would be okay after his broken jaw healed up and the skin grafts took, but Harry doubted either Vernon or Petunia would ever forgive him. Dudley probably wouldn't either, but the important thing was that Harry now had a proper bedroom and meals. Plus he was left alone by his relatives. He mostly stayed in his room, switching between pondering how to distance himself from his emotions and admitting to himself how he had acted wrongly. If he had not lost his temper there may have been a more peaceful way to settle things, one without unnecessary violence and complications.
'Difficult. There's plenty of ambition here, yes, and even more secrets.' The Sorting Hat said into Harry's ear, startling the boy. 'Don't worry, I can't speak of what I see. It's quite the unique mind you have here. I don't believe I've ever seen similar. I can see plenty of intelligence, just the photographic memory would earn you a place in Rowena's nest. And bravery, yes, you would fight even the devil himself. Quite the black and white view you have there. Also there's the seed of leadership in you. Hm, I think the only house you wouldn't fit in with is Hufflepuff. Not very loyal.'
"Just don't put me in the same house as that blond boy." Harry whispered back, his mind conjuring up the image of the arrogant Draco Malfoy.
'Hmm. Yes, I can see how that wouldn't work out. I have no wish to send a student to their deaths and placing you in Slytherin would be the end of young Malfoy. With your powers, his ego, and the hormone filled teenage years approaching...no, it wouldn't be safe for him.' The Hat had to admit, sounding a bit disappointed one of his primary choices were removed from candidacy. 'Well, there's only one house left to be sure...so enjoy your time in GRYFFINDOR!'
**4 Years Later**
Harry worked on his homework idly with his right hand while his left propped his head up in a bored fashion. He and Ron were not getting along now and to be honest it was a freeing sensation, but there were times when he wished his friends was back just so he wouldn't be so bored. He was tired of reading spellbooks on Defense and Charms even if they were above N.E.W.T. level and there was only so much practice one can do before they burn themselves out. Well, at least the scenery in the Great Hall had improved since the delegations from Bauxbatons arrived. Though he wasn't much of a ladies man, in fact he was rather shy, he found himself watching the exotic French witches more and more often. For some reason they seemed to smile at him a lot and he honestly didn't know what to do about it...except to watch them walk past, of course.
There was just something about how the sky blue silk clung to every curve and how the flesh beneath jiggled as they walked. Fleur Delacour was one of his favorite women to watch walk, though for some reason he didn't turn into a gibbering wreck like most boys. He had to admit she was hands down the most beautiful girl he had ever seen, but her personality left something to be desired. He had not appreciated being referred to as a 'leetle boy' by someone he could crush with his pinky. Speaking of strength, his own was increasing by leaps and bounds as was his speed. He could now run faster than most cars, but he had no real way of testing his strength. When he had been in First Year, he had saved Hermione Granger from a Mountain Troll and they had been nearly even in strength. That was the beginning of their friendship. Ron had come in a few months later after apologizing to Hermione for making fun of her.
His invulnerability to harm had been increasing as well. When he had fought the basilisk in Second Year he had been knocked around the Chamber of Secrets by the ancient magical creatures despite his own commands in Parseltongue to stop attacking and yet all he had were a few bruises later that had disappeared by the next. That fight had also taught him about a weakness of his: he could harmed by magical means. Spells still effected him like everyone else as did Gryffindor's Sword, Basilisk fangs, and whatever else was imbued with magic. It was his only weakness as far as he could tell, but he was certain there would be other weaknesses that would reveal themselves in time. Still, not bad as far as weaknesses go. He was only effected by magic just like everyone else was. He could just dodge most spells, but cursed items, enchanted items, wards, or invisible spells he was still vulnerable to.
Harry knew Voldemort was on the move, his dreams had told as much, and that the man/wraith had somehow ensured Harry's entry into the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Hermione had believed in him where Ron had not because she knew of Harry's abilities, trusted by him where Ron was not. She knew Harry had no reason to join the tournament since competing against schoolmates and others near his age was boring to him, though the tasks had proven remarkably challenging even for one such as him. Granted, most of that difficulty came from having to hide his powers, but he would take any challenge where he could find it. Challenges were what made life so very interesting. Without struggle, the prize means nothing. It was why he was rather excited by Voldemort's newest bid for power. Magic was his only weakness and Voldemort, being one of the most powerful sorcerers in the world, served as the ultimate challenge for Harry.
There was also the fact he killed Harry's parents, an act he couldn't forgive and the one that doomed Voldemort to being his enemy so the motivation for ending his pathetic life was there.
Fleur Delacour stood up and walked for the entrance of the Great Hall breaking Harry out of his thoughts and memories to enjoy the sight. The blond French girl had the most perfect derriere he had ever seen, it was rounded yet muscular with just a tad of jiggle for good measure. His green eyes were focused to the partial Veela's backside as though glued. So focused was he that he didn't hear Hermione sit down beside him and clear her throat pointedly. Harry felt his eyes becoming warm for some reason, but he ignored it.
"If you stare at her any harder you burn a hole through her." Hermione snipped dryly, nose in the air as she began piling food on her plate. As Harry continued to stare he saw a back spot appear on Fleur's left cheek and he focused on it, wondering what it was when a flame caught at the same place he had been staring. Fleur let out a cream as she patted her backside much to laughter and hoots from the boys in the Great Hall.
"I, I think I just did." Harry stated in shock, quickly turning his eyes back to the table. When a black spot similar to the one on Fleur's backside appeared on the table he closed his eyes forcefully, trying to cut of the new and unexpected power. "Uh, 'Mione? I think a new power just appeared."
"Oh dear." She sighed, noticing his closed eyes. Finally she stood up and took his hand. "Come on. I'll lead you outside so you can get a handle on this one."
"But won't it look weird? Us holding hands, I mean." He stammered, feeling his face burn and he knew he was blushing.
"He wants to take over the world someday and he's embarrassed by holding a girl's hand." Hermione remarked as she rolled her brown eyes, walking forward with Harry's hand clenched in her's not caring if she was fairly dragging him. "Boys. You know a girl can hold her friend's hand without it being something sexual. Merlin knows I don't see you that way. Nothing against you Harry, you're handsome and can be quite charming, but I'm more into larger men." Hearing his choked laugh, she rolled her eyes again. "I mean, buffer men. I like broad shoulders and large muscles whereas you are more wiry."
"So you like Krum, then?" Harry joked, but as he heard silence instead of laughter or a witty rejoiner he became more serious. "Seriously? Krum? I don't have anything against Krum, he seemed nice enough during the five minutes I met him, but he didn't strike me as the intellectual type. I guess I always figured you'd go after smarter blokes."
"Let's just get his new power of your's under control so you can go back to watching bums all day and keeping your nose out of my love life."
"He can't be back, Dumbledore! He just can't!" Minister Fudge denied as Harry listened to the conversation in disbelief from his hospital bed. The man approached to give Harry the bag of gold he had won when Harry decided to speak his opinion.
"Who is this imbecile, Headmaster? This is not the Minister for Magic." He questioned, a look of contempt on his face. Somehow Harry looked down his nose at the Minister while being confined to his hospital bed. "No one who leads so many would deny the possible return of a dangerous enemy. He would have to be a complete and utter *fool* to not even take precautionary measures against such a threat to his rule even if he did not believe it existed. A leader of so many would know there are always threats to the kingdom and defend against them accordingly. A real leader would find this the perfect excuse to strengthen his government, it's prisons, and the police force because a real leader knows war is always just around the corner. Who is this man, I see no Minister?"
"Are you calling me a fool, boy?" Minister Fudge demanded, his body ballooning in anger while his lime green bowler hat wobbled precariously. He looked quite mad, yet Harry showed him nothing but disdain and disgust in his expression.
"Yes I am, because someone apparently forgot to." Harry sneered, anger pulsing through him at being called 'boy'. Nobody, not even Vernon had called him that since he sent the man to the hospital with a shattered jaw. "For crying out loud man, you are supposed to be a leader and a fourteen year old knows more about protecting a nation than you! This is your chance for greatness, to man up and be strong or to be a fool who will be shamed and mocked in the annals of history!"
"I will not stand here and be insulted by a teenager." Fudge snapped, turning and storming out of the hospital wing with the bag of gold laying on the stone floor forgotten.
"It was not wise to alienate Cornelius Fudge, Harry. He is afraid, afraid and delusional. That can drive a man to do terrible things." Dumbledore advised him, absently holding out his palm and wandlessly summoning the bag of gold. Such effortless displays of wandless magic amazed Harry who would never be able to achieve the same kind of power. He may be intelligent and dedicated, but besides Defense Against the Dark Arts he wasn't very talented in every subject so he would never be a wizard of the Headmaster's considerable caliber, magically speaking. Harry did, on the other hand, have abilities much greater than magic, though none but Hermione knew about them.
"You should have killed him, Professor. He will be our enemy now. With Voldemort's return, that fool could bring about the fall of Wizarding Britain with his sheer incompetence." Harry opinioned, glaring at the door as he watched Fudge leave with his X-Ray Vision. That was one power Hermione did not know about nor would she ever if he had his way. "In fact, I suggest you begin making calls and informing important people as to the Minister's mental instability."
"Are you really so willing to take a man's life?" Albus asked plainly, ignoring Harry's advice as he took a seat in the hospital chair. "Could you bring yourself to extinguish his existence? Can you comprehend the consequences?"
"Yes, if it would save lives in the long run then I would." Harry told him firmly, no doubt or hesitation in his response. It was a decision he had to think about ever since he started on the path to rule since a leader had to face such decisions every day. His choice had been made long ago and it would not be an easy path.
"Ah, it is so easy to say and yet so hard to do." Dumbledore sighed sadly, looking at Harry with the strangest emotion in his normally twinkling blue eyes. It looked like...regret? Guilt? It disappeared too fast for Harry to be certain. "Speaking as a man who has been forced to make that decision many times and indeed am still forced to make it, do not jump to killing to solve your problems. It causes far more problems than it solves and the taking of a life, any life, stays with you until you die, perhaps even beyond that. When one takes a life one ends all that person is, all he was, and all he will ever be. That knowledge, more than the act itself which is remarkably simple, is what makes killing so difficult, but beware the day you feel no guilt at all for on that day you've become a monster."
"I understand, Headmaster." Harry tried to assure his teacher, but Dumbledore merely shook his head and continued to look at him pityingly.
As soon as he arrived at Privet Drive for the summer vacation, Harry knew there was no way he was going to stay there. Voldemort was out there with an infusion of his blood which means the dark wizard may have gained one of his abilities, possibly all of them. He hadn't displayed any during their duel and Harry had managed to keep his dodging within human levels, but there were many times he had nearly been forced to use his powers. Voldemort had kept him on the defensive from the moment the duel started and that Cruciatius Curse had been beyond any mere description of pain. Harry had never really felt pain before the duel, sure there was the Basilisk tooth but he had been in shock at the time so the pain hadn't really hit him. The torture curse, on the other, hand still frightened him. For the first time in his life he actually feared a spell, a spell that could leave him to a fate much wore than death.
Voldemort was growing stronger, he could feel it in his scar and see it in his dreams. So Harry considered it vital to gain as much knowledge and power as possible if he was to survive their next meeting. There was also the theory that if Voldemort could crush the defenses of some of the most heavily warded mansions and manors in the Wizarding World, homes that had centuries of enchantments and curses attacked to them then the Dark Lord could crush the blood wards of Privet Drive, especially with Harry's blood in his veins. He didn't know if Voldemort could actually attack Privet Drive but Harry knew he would be trying and that alone was reason enough to leave.
A loud piercing screech brought Harry to his knees, clamping his palms over his ears in an attempt to muffle the sound. For ten minutes he was paralyzed by the pain the sound caused his ears when the screech lowered in intensity enough for him to remove his hands. Harry felt a deep need to follow the sound, though his mind warned to him not to. After a few seconds, his curiosity got the better of him and Harry supersped toward the sound. Within a minute he found himself at the coast with the sound leading him out to sea. Suddenly, he felt very nervous about this. He had never learned how to swim unless one counted the gillyweed aided rescue and, wouldn't you know it, he was fresh out.
"Okay, it's just water. Water filled with sharks, orcas, and slimy eels." He shuddered, jumping up and down in an attempt to shake the fear off of him. With a deep breath to gather his courage, he ran at the water as fast as he possibly could and was shocked when his feet only sunk a few inches deep before he made another step. For nearly an hour, Harry ran across the ocean dodging whatever vessels he saw in fear of radar. Finally he made it to a beach in...America if the sign was to be believed. He continued running for thirty minutes until his search led him to an old cave covered in moss that concealed it from the rest of the world. He entered the cave, suddenly feeling the strangest sense of deja vu.
He heard a rumbling and turned to look at one of the cave walls, noticing for the first time the odd 'Z' like symbol painted onto it. A hole appeared in the wall and it grew larger until a chamber with some sort of altar in it's center was visible. Cautiously, he entered the chamber and saw it was made out of metals the likes of which he had never seen and at the center of the altar was hole with a red four sided diamond shaped crystal laying next to it. He walked over to the altar and lifted up the crystal, inspecting it curiously before eying the hole and sliding the crystal inside. A man with a face almost exactly his own only older appeared, except this man had a regal, well trimmed beard and neat black hair that was slicked straight back.
"My heir, I am General Dru-Zod. Your father. You may believe yourself a member of the primitive species on Earth, even born out of one, but you are much, much more..."
AN: The other chapters should be up shortly.