BOOK 01: The Daylight Magic Series: Dark Lantern

:: BOOK 01 ::

Daylight Magic Series

The Dark Lantern

PROLOGUE

A Child Lost

"And stay in there, you worthless freak!" the meaty man screamed, his face red with rage, as he pushed a bloodied and bruised child under the stairs into what appeared to be a cupboard. Rage pounded through his veins. 'How dare the freak ask about his parents! The arrogant selfish brat knew nothing of the trials of patience they needed to put up with him. His parents were the cause of it all. Their freakishness was passed down to the child, bred into him. Marge was right, the boy was nothing but bad blood. The child should be culled just like a dog. Freakishness was a disease that needed to be controlled, if not eliminated!'

Slamming the door shut, the man with far too little neck and an overly large blond mustache, locked the door with a padlock. A skinny horse-faced woman looked in with obvious glee.

Inside the cupboard the child, enshrouded by darkness, could not suppress the whimper that passed his lips.

"Shut up!" the man yelled, pounding on the door before walking away satisfied with the 'lesson' he had taught his nephew. The woman smirked, finally getting the revenge she so sought for her sister. She would work the boy hard and long, make him suffer like her sister had done to her. She'd make the child try to gain her approval, but she would never give it to the child. Oh, how ironic. Lily had received all the attention that should've been hers and now Lily's child would get what Lily had deserved. Revenge was a sweet, best served cold. The woman was even more satisfied that she could hurt Lily's child. She would take away the child's hope and power; make him feel worthless and useless. Just like she had been condemned to loneliness, so would the freak. With a nod of approval to herself, the woman, Petunia Dursley, spun on her heel and left.

Alone in the dark cramped cupboard, a little child stared forlornly at the crack that let the light in, and wished. He wished as hard as he could for someone to love him.

This boy was in appearance entirely unremarkable, with his malnourished frame and snarled, long raven hair that could use a good haircut. The fact was to most of the world, this boy was nothing, just another orphan. His older twin brothers, on the other hand, were extraordinary. The small child was enamored by his elder siblings who wrote him constantly from their home with Moony and Padfoot. Evan Louis Potter and Ryan Merion Potter were The-Boys-Who-Lived!

When the twins were one year old, not only had they survived the Killing Curse (a thing that was surely impossible), but they had vanquished an evil wizard. With their parents dead, Evan and Ryan were taken in by Sirius and Remus to be trained, until such a time they reached the appropriate age to be accepted at Hogwarts.

Unfortunately, there had been no room for Harry. So, he had been shipped off to the Dursleys. The Dursleys--under threat--allowed him to read his siblings' letters, scrawled in untidy chicken scratch only five-year-olds can produce. However, the Dursleys monitored Harry's return correspondence to his brothers.

His brothers' letters were filled with tales of adventures and toys, of lessons and games. All of which fascinated Harry to no extent. Harry was a strange and extremely intelligent child. In his childish reasoning he had deduced that a lot was expected his elder brothers. That, while he had many woes himself, he did not have the safety of the world resting on his shoulders. Of course, his thought process went more like this: 'Evan and Ryan are very important. Wish I was important too. But lots of people need Evan and Ryan. Aunt Petunia, Dudley and Uncle Vernon need me here and they're only three people.'

How wrong he was about his worth. How wrong he was about their desperate need for him. For within the shadows of Lord Voldemort an even greater threat loomed patiently waiting for the time to strike! That this very boy, who lay faint from blood loss and barely coherent would one day save the world seemed impossible.

August 8, 1985

It was a late August day, when the Romani stopped in Little Whinging, Surrey. The day was cool with a slight wind. A shadowy figure stood hidden within the shadows of the old-fashioned caravan and watched as his adoptive magical family, the Romani, prepared their trade.

The colorful group of travelers set up elaborate tents and placed goods on folding tables. An area was cleared for performances. Food was prepared, roasted over temporary fire pits. Decorations, such as paper lights were strung high above the grounds and decorative beads were artistically arranged to create an ethereal effect. This created a mystical atmosphere. This made the magic of the entertainment come alive. They pocketed colorful powders that when thrown into the fire would momentarily change the color of the flickering flames. But, this performance was not all gags and tricks. No, this performance had real magic, the magic of the Romani.

It was a closely guarded secret that the Romani were in fact magical beings, able to perform specific brands of magic. The reason why they were not classified as witches and wizards was the daunting fact that they were unable to perform spells and curses. The majority of their magic was elemental (able to control the elements of fire, water, lightning, wind and earth) and naturalistic (able to control plants and animals). A few possessed mind magic (telekinesis, telepathy and retrocognition), soul sight (a spirit medium) and beast-speak (speaking telepathically to animals). Shape-changer blood could be commonly found in the Romani and thus Metamophmagi evolved from their union with witches and wizards.

The Romani were a proud group of pacifists. Their lives were based on tradition and culture. They were wanderers by nature and were lively and usually kind and empathic to situations and struggles. They were pure.

And he, the shadowy figure, was proud to be accepted as family. He watched the proceedings with mild interest. Towards the end of the festivities, the figure took it upon himself to travel the perimeter of the fairgrounds looking for dangers to his family.

It was by this action that the man would come face-to-face with a destiny-altering decision--a decision that would change the very course of history. Hidden in a nearby thicket, the man suddenly detected a creature being brutally beaten. Animalistic whimpers filled the air and the smell of blood and sex dominated the area. With sleek grace and fury burning in his ruby eyes, the man slithered into the foliage and came upon a ghastly scene.

A bulbous man with piggy, unintelligent features pummeled a bound male child of undeterminable age. The boy had evidently been previously violated and had passed out from the pain. His unconscious whimpers, as the man's appendages connect with his body, were pitiful. The shadowed man's blood practically sung with rage.

Withdrawing a wand, he pointed the weapon at the man and said in a low voice filled with malice, "Incidere!" (Cut). The man attempted to scream, as large cuts covered his body made by invisible butcher knives, but a curse the followed silenced and bound him. Blood sprayed everywhere as the man struggled against his invisible bindings. Soon he fainted from pain and blood loss.

August 9, 1985

Miles away, a small, male child with a battered emaciated body and the most amazing purple eyes awoke. A man with silken, curly dark hair and ruby eyes leaned over him and whispered, "Welcome to the Romani, child, my name is Salazar Slytherin."

Dear Journal,

My name is Jamie Harrison Potter, Harry for short. I was a strange child, living an even stranger life. I never had a home. My home was the road. It didn't matter to me that my life was chaotic and continuously in perpetual motion. It didn't bother me that my family was looked down upon. I didn't care that we were poor and sometimes we didn't have enough to satisfy our bellies. What meant everything to me, was that I had been accepted. I had finally found a family. What mattered was that I had friends who supported me and a mentor who guided me.

We, my adopted father, Salazar Slytherin, and his family, the Romani, traveled far and wide. Making ends meets end with entertainment and materials that we collected and sold throughout our journeys. I was a great asset being able to charm snakes. This was an ability which my adopted father had lost when he had been turned.

There are many misconceptions about my adopted father. Salazar is not a bad man. He was misguided. But never bad. You see, when he was a child, his mother and sisters were brutally raped and then murdered for being witches. He only survived the encounter because the sexist pigs believed a male could not embody the devil.

Salazar grew up hating Muggles for their transgressions. It wasn't until he was cast out of his haven, Hogwarts, that he had begun to examine that opinion.

It took two hundred years for him to finally rectify his beliefs: not all Muggles are bad. Like him, the Muggles who had harmed his family had also been misguided. So, Salazar had set about to learn about and nurture the Muggle society.

Unfortunately, all was for naught, as his ability to interact with Muggle society was hampered by his immortality and the fearsome lore that surrounds his new species. However, that is an entirely different tale. In his old age of 1,023 years, he settled for traveling and protecting his adoptive family. His role is of the quiet sentinel. He is a fearsome guard.

Meanwhile, over the years in accompanying my father and the Romani, I quickly learned that I was not an ordinary child. While my brothers were the Boys-Who-Lived, I was extraordinary in my own way. I was a quick learner and able to pick up concepts and theories within seconds. I had a photographic memory and could sense the magic in my surroundings.

Far too often did I catch Salazar trying to sneak up on me. We made it into a game. Salazar would attempt to catch me unawares, while I would constantly be on the look out. It developed my senses. Eventually, we determined that I could even differentiate between different types of magic by feeling alone. For instance, I could tell the difference between a hex and a healing charm, or a transfiguration and a levitation charm. I constantly surprised my father.

I showed a talent for the vampiric shadow magics and Salazar's inherited Parselmagic. You see, in order to cement our relationship, my father blood adopted me. He couldn't very well use the complete ceremony without unintentionally turning me into a vampire. So, instead of blood, he bound his dormant magic to mine.

I inherited several of his more grand traits. Salazar knew for a fact that his so called heir didn't possess Parselmagic as it had grown weak in his bloodline, with too many inter-family marriages. This was to apt to happen in magical families.

I also learned demonic magic, which is basically summoning minor demons. In addition to all of my studies, I practiced Occlumency and Legilimency.

Now let me tell you, father is a master of Occlumency and Legilimency, being the founder of the art. He has created many methods of the practices that were forgotten by the mainstream and some that were only known to him.

It seems that originally Legilimency was a hereditary Ravenclaw family ability. So Salazar wanting to keep his secrets from the prying Rowena, began to study forms of meditation, visions and illusions. Adapting these, he set about organizing his mind. He created a landscape to hide his most converted secrets in. He separated his emotions from memories, classified each memory and emotion and sorted them. His particular landscape was a catacomb filled with blank graves and treacherous underground rivers and caverns. He used illusions to create false pathways, disguise true routes and make, or alter, new memories or alter them. He cemented this power within Parselmagic, making it impenetrable to all but his blood family. Even then, some things he didn't share with them.

His life changing mistake came when sleeping with Rowena's younger sister. Alyssa Ravenclaw was a beautiful, quick witted and intelligent woman. She could tie men's tongues in knots with her quick wit and beauty. Alyssa was Rowena's first apprentice and had come to Hogwarts just after the final stone was placed.

After a passionate session of love making, he had drifted off to sleep, feeling entirely too safe in her presence. He accidentally revealed one of his most damning secrets. The next day he was exiled when Rowena's sister hurt him with her falsehoods and deception. She never loved him, she just yearned for his secrets. Unable to get all of his secrets, she was then bent of usurping his position as fourth founder. He had left after cursing the castle. Rowena's sister was unable to have herself named fourth founder. Slytherin's power was cemented into the sentinel life force of Hogwarts.

She then debauched his house and his name, turning his reputation into something darker than it was, making it into what it is today.

Legilimency that is used today, was changed by Salazar into a spell instead of an inherited gift. If one were to trace the Ravenclaw line now, it would lead to the Squib line by the name of Granger and to the magical family Ollivander.

No Muggle-Born is actually Muggle-Born. A witch or wizard, who seemingly comes from muggle descent, is actually from a Squib line or an exiled witch or wizard, who married a Muggle. In ages past, Pure-Blood families had the ability to snap their children's wands if they didn't follow through with contracts.

So the inevitable happened. Many children abandoned the magical world and integrated themselves so deeply into the Muggle world that their descendants would only think of themselves as muggles. Furthermore, bastard children were often left in Muggle orphanages.

Salazar learned this after his fourth century away from Hogwarts.

Well this is goodnight.

Yours Sincerely,

Jamie Harrison 'Harry' Potter

TO BE CONTINUED

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