Warrior of the Chozo
Advent Potter
The night Harry Potter was born was the night the One Winged Angel was reborn. The power of the One Winged Angel was locked deep within the young infant. It was the power that protected him and his twin brother Henry, yet the magical residue had left a scar on Henry while Harry whose wing of black that sprouted from his right faded away. No one knew that Harry Potter was the child who Voldemort was destined to fight, yet because of the One Winged Angel's protection, Harry survived death.
Dumbledore found the two when the parents of the two children were revived, and was glad they were alright. Harry was fine, without any marks, but Henry had on his right temple a lightning bolt-shaped scar. This was Harry's tale of walking a lone man's path. He grew up being abused and hated. James and Lily were reluctant to hand Harry over to the Durlseys while they focused on Henry. However, by the time the twins turned eleven, Harry Potter has vanished.
=0=0=
Sixteen year old Harry Potter walked along, down a dirt path across the vast lands of Scotland. His jet black hair was long and shimmers like a curtain down to his lower back. Around the front he had several spiked fringes sprouting like curved fangs, and his emerald green eyes glowed softly. He wore a black trench coat with several belt straps wrapped around his biceps, a white tank that clung like a second skin with a fishnet sweater worn over that clothing. His shoulders were protected by silver oval gauntlets. His black leather boots were knee length, two thin black straps around the ankles, with a pair of tight leather pants and a thick armor-plated belt. He wore fingerless leather bracers with silver bangles. Attached to his left hip was a six foot long sword he had found deep within the Yakuza territory when he was twelve years old.
As he past through the trees, he looked over the distance of the mountains. There, he found a small village with several windows and lights twinkling. Further on was a large impressive looking old castle situated near a large black lake... to Harry, it looked like something out of a fairy tale.
This area... it is filled with darkness, the voice spoke to Harry.
... I can feel it...
... The town is being attacked, the voice spoke up. Through Harry's eyes it can see the monsters that were storming the village in the short distance. Harry sprinted off, as the following wolf watched on where it sat.
=0=0=
It was the middle of day, and children were screaming as Dementors flew in trying to steal the souls of anything it would come across. They were being repelled by silver white creatures shot out from stick-like twigs the adults had. However the forces were too much.
"Dumbledore, there is too many Dementors," a short kid, in truth a man, shouted to the tall wizard with a long white beard, half moon specs, and violet robes with star bursts all over.
One Dementor got past the Phoenix Patronas and flew down at Dumbledore, before a six foot long sword appeared from no where and impaled it in the skull. It shrieked as it slowly evaporated into black fyreflies, and vanished. The sword clattered right into the ground, which then jerked and flew off to the top of the roof of the Three Broomsticks. Almost immediately all battles stopped, as the Dementors slowly turned towards the figure, whose emerald green eyes seemed to glow. The Death Eaters that also attacked looked up at the figure, before he seemingly vanished. He then appeared in front of the Order of the Phoenix, and the sword pierced through the chest of one Death Eater, and out the back.
"Hn..." Yanking his sword out, the Death Eaters tried to kill the newcomer but he evaded them with cat-like speed. The Death Eaters cried out as blood spilled the cobblestones of Hogsmeade.
When the last Death Eater had fallen, not counting those the Order of the Phoenix had stunned unconscious, he turned his attention to the Dementors, just as Aurors popped in. One Dementor swooped down on him, but shrieked as the silver blade sliced through it, causing it to disintegrate into black fyreflies. Voldemort watched from the shadows as the figure laid waste to the Dementors, doing what none could ever do: kill a Dementor. He fired the Killing Curse as the last Dementor fell, but the black haired figure angled the spell off the sword and it reflected into a barrel of rum, exploding.
"Who are you?" Voldemort demanded in a quiet tone, as he stepped out. Everyone had backed away in fear, wands up and ready. Harry however did not falter.
"I am the one destined to kill you, Tom Riddle."
He screamed out at the name he hated, firing several Killing Curses at once. Harry deflected each spell which slammed into several summoned barrels Voldemort conjured. "NEVER! EVER! Call me that name!" He screamed angrily.
"Oh, sorry Mr. He-Whose-Anagram-Name-Frightens-All," The sixteen year old mocked.
"You dare mock the great Lord Voldemort!?"
"I dare," he said with a grin, "besides... you should remember me. After all, I killed you in the first place."
Voldemort stared long and hard at the teenager, before he fully recognized the glowing green eyes. "Yes," Harry dawdled, as he extended his right arm, prompting his black wing to fully sprout from him. Voldemort gasped, recognizing the child.
"... Harry Potter," Voldemort whispered, as everyone else still alive gasped in shock. As Harry lowered his arm, the black wing closed in.
"The lost child... so, had no choice but to go after the fake Boy-Who-Lived, hm? I heard much about you... how you taken Henry Potter during the Tri-Wizard Tournament and used his blood forcibly removed to resurrect your foe... too bad it wasn't mine or else you wouldn't have the need of Horcruxes... that, and we would be the only two in the living realm with the power of the One-Winged Angel."
Voldemort screamed as he fired several more Killing Curses and a Crucio, but Harry folded his wing over him and vanished in a whirlwind of black feathers. The spells crashed into the empty Hogs Head bar.
"Yup..." The sword pierced through the back and through Voldemort with the blade's sharp point protruding through the chest, "too bad you're not at full strength. The blood of the true prophesized child was needed. Without my blood, you're nothing... at least to me." The heart was skewered. He slowly pulled it out and watched as the world's feared Dark Lord collapsed to the ground, dead to the world.
"Hmph..." A sudden roar forced Harry to turn his head to a lumbering Hungarian Horntail dragon. It growled lowly at Harry, under the influence of dark magic as it caused an explosion to form when Harry was struck by a searing blast of flames. To the shock of the witches and wizards in attendance, Harry only stood up, as the flames danced around him. He leapt into the air and with a fast swing, blood spilled like a curtain to the floor, as the dragon was now without a head and a few inches of thick neck. But he swung again, and halved the dragon before swinging horizontally, splitting it into four pieces of blood and gore.
Good work, Harry, the voice complimented. Harry swung the six foot long blade, releasing the spots of blood before he elegantly sheathed the blade in its scabbard.
"Harry?" The teen heard a woman's voice quiver. His eyes casted upon a lady with long red hair, and startling green eyes... eyes like his, "Son... I'm sorry..."
These were the words that mad him seethe in hatred. "If you were sorry," he hissed, "then you should have never given me away sixteen years ago!"
"NO!" Lily cried as Harry's wing extended out and the teenager took flight, and flew off into the distance. James ran up to his wife as she collapsed and started sobbing. It was sixteen years ago Harry Potter was given away since Voldemort tried to kill their children...
=0=0=
"The fools that they are," Harry muttered in cold hate, "it is their fault I am who I am..."
A trail of silver hair cascaded around him, as a pair of strong arms wrapped around the crouched teen.
"The truth has been let into the light now. However fate has allowed things like this to occur..."
"... They were my parents, and they willingly gave me up," Harry said, as a tear trickled down his face.
A pale hand reached up to wipe the tear away, and Harry simply snuggled further in the man's embrace. Cat-like eyes glowed softly, as Sephiroth held the teenager closer. The power of the One-Winged Angel, the power the Dark Lord knows not. As the crystal slowly crept up around him into its solid cocoon, the last thought Harry was his fallen angel.
"Sephiroth..."
A name once feared in a past life, now saving grace for a lonely child.
Warrior of the Chozo
He was given their life blood. His wish to be taken away and be loved was answered. An avian-like race of creatures found him as they were exploring this planet, finding that this planet indeed would become famous in the years to come... they took him away from the pain and suffering, and spirited him away back to their home world in the reaches of space, far away from the planet Earth, where no other human (not for several hundred years or so) can never reach. Here, he was trained, taught to survive.
The Oracle of the race saw him as a protector of justice, a protector of his race. So they gave him their blood, gave him the ability to survive on the planet known as Zebes. And when the hatching was ready to leave, now at the age of human adolescence, it was not surprising when a bird that even they spoke of in legend of honor so greatly spirited the child away back to homeworld, on the wings of the soaring bird of legendary fire.
Harry Potter, Warrior of the Chozo, was not the same wizard the Wizarding World shall sought to believe in the many stories spoke of the boy. No... they, as much as the evil that still clouds the hidden world, shall learn that Harry Potter will bring forth the shining light of hope form the deepest pits of darkness and despair, and he will do all of this in the next seven years relying little on his magical heritage of his wizarding genes, and more on the heritage of the proud and noble race of the Chozo.