Harry Potter and The Shadowed Light

Hello Old world, I'm back

Previously

Harry sat wondering how this would all work, before suddenly he felt like his body was being forced through a blender. If he thought portkeys were bad, they were nothing compared to this. Harry felt like his very atoms were being ripped apart and rearranged. His last thought was that he was probably correct.

~

4 Privet Drive, July 31st 1991

Harry sat up with a groan. His head was killing him and he felt like he had bruised every inch of his skin, twice. Looking around, Harry tried to make sense of his surroundings when he suddenly remembered what he had done. With a maniacal cackle, Harry looked around the dusty confines of his cupboard; it was as bad as he remembered he thought to himself.

"It worked," he whispered to himself.

"Did you doubt me?" asked Death's deep, rumbling voice, making Harry jump as he had thought he was alone.

"No, it's just shocking really being here." Harry said, his prepubescent voice shocking him as he was used to his more mature rumble.

Death seemed to accept that. "I will leave you here," he said, "try not to call on me unless you have dire need as I am not an errand boy for your amusement. I will check in from time to time."

Harry nodded his head, still lost in the surrealism of the situation.

"Very well," Death said before promptly vanishing.

Harry sat for a moment gathering his thoughts before deciding to test his magic; it wasn't that he didn't trust Death, it was just that he wanted to verify.

Focusing on his magic, Harry held out his hand. With one thought of the lighting charm, Harry was happy to see his cupboard light up. Smiling, Harry's thoughts soon turned sour when he heard movement. In his joy he had forgotten about the muggles.

As Vernon moved above him, coming down the stairs, the ceiling let out puffs of dust making Harry cough and splutter. Harry's eyes narrowed as he remembered everything he had been forced to live through at the hands of his so called caretakers. He would be damned if he would sit back and take it again. When his cupboard door was finally yanked open and Vernon's bellowing voice rang out, Harry had already decided what to do.

"You had better be awake, boy! I want breakfast on the table in ten minutes or so help me God, you will rue the day your good for nothing mother whelped you!" Vernon roared, his face an unhealthy puce colour.

Harry stood gracefully and moved out of the cupboard. He didn't know if the blood glamour had been removed, but he guessed it had as Vernon soon started spluttering at Harry.

"What did you do you little freak?!" he demanded, advancing on Harry with his fist raised. Normally this would have caused Harry to drop and cower in fear, but now Harry just smirked and tightened his fist, watching in fascination as Vernon froze, unable to move. The spell was one he had read about in the Black library - it would bind the victim and the more they struggled the tighter the bindings got. It was based on devil's snare, interestingly enough.

Harry took a step forward and, with flourish, dropped his fist down, causing Vernon to drop painfully to his knees. "Now uncle, let's not do anything we'll regret now," Harry said, his voice mockingly soft.

"F-freak! Release me at once!" Vernon ordered, his voice not as loud as it had once been and his face taking on a distinctly fearful look. Harry watched in glee as he struggled, knowing he was causing himself further pain; and although he didn't like torture, he was suddenly gaining an understanding for it.