Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the authors. The authors are in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

Author's Note: Starting with this chapter of this story, I am using a new system to denote the time of the day that certain things are happening. Instead of saying exactly when, I will state the general time of day that it is happening at.

Also, please note, the first paragraph of this chapter describes some pretty substantial abuse committed on Harry by Vernon Dursley.

xXx Harry Rasputin and the Unexpected Entanglements xXx
xXx Arc 00: Prologue / Ch. 02: Rowena xXx

xXx The Cupboard Under the Stairs xXx
xXx No. 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging xXx
xXx Monday, June 10th, 1985 xXx
xXx Pre-Dawn Morning xXx

The four, nearly five, year old Harry James Potter, sat curled up a cowering wreck in his cupboard. Earlier his Uncle Vernon had decided to take his rage at not having successfully landed a business deal out on the young child. This resulted in Harry's left arm, and one of his ribs being broken, as well as his right eye being bruised so badly that he could hardly see out of it.

"Why do they hate me?" Harry whimpered out forlornly.

That was when Harry's vision blurred and it was as though he had begun to see things through the eyes of someone else.

xXx Random Mountain Valley xXx
xXx Remote Part of Scotland xXx
xXx Thursday, August 15th, 972 xXx
xXx High Noon xXx

"Yes, just like that," the feminine voice of whoever Harry was currently riding inside of called out from where she stood overseeing the work of some craftsmen. It was odd though, Harry could quite clearly understand what was said, despite the fact that he easily recognized that what was said was not spoken in any language that he knew of.

The craftsmen were lowering a very heavy looking rock into a pit that was carved into a stone floor that was located inside of what appeared to be a moderate sized meeting hall. Or at least it would be a meeting hall once the floor was repaired.

"My lady Ravenclaw, I must ask again, how is it that this… rock… is meant to protect your school?" the foreman asked.

Harry's host glanced over at the man and in a smooth and silken voice she replied, "You wouldn't understand the intricacies of my arte. Now leave me and return to your duties."

"Yes… yes, at once, my Lady," the man practically fell over himself as his eyes glazed over slightly in the woman's presence.

"Naughty, naughty Rowena. Using your Veela magic on a poor unsuspecting Muggle like that," the musical voice of another woman said from behind Harry's host, who Harry had by now realized was named 'Rowena Ravenclaw.'

Rowena turned to regard the woman who had just spoken, "I don't know what you are talking about, Helga."

Harry was able to see that Helga was a tall blonde woman, with caring maternal eyes. She was wearing a golden necklace that was open at the front, and which was made out of a weird twisting braid of metal. This braid had two large rams heads on either side of the frontal opening. She was wearing a long silk dress that hugged her figure and left very little to the imagination.

"Oh!" Helga said as her eyes glazed over slightly, "It would seem that you have a visitor, Rowena."

"What are you seeing?" Rowena questioned.

"A young man, from a considerable time in the future… he appears to be in some distress over the way his relatives are treating him… and I stress the word relatives, they cannot be called his family due to how they treat him. I… I sense that his soul is connected to yours, but I am not clear on exactly how…" Helga responded as she spoke in a very breathy tone of voice as her eyes remained glazed over.

Harry felt an intense feeling of panic well up in him at having been discovered, a sense of panic that had obviously made itself known to Rowena, as she soothingly placed a hand on her cheek and said, "Relax young man, I am not angry with you, merely curious. This sort of phenomena, while unusual, is not unheard of among the Veela, my species. I know that you will be unable to communicate with me outside of what Helga sees, but you can still flood me with your emotions. I wonder… are you old enough to have begun your magical education?"

Harry mentally frowned, he began mentally reciting the mantra that his uncle had beaten into him, that 'there is no such thing as magic,' yet at the same time he could not deny that what he was experiencing was… well… pretty magical seeming. Truth be told Harry was feeling rather conflicted over the whole issue.

Rowena glanced up at Helga and said, "I am getting a sense of deep confusion. Almost as if he wants to believe in magic, but has been told all his life that magic doesn't exist. Who would do that to a child?"

"Mmm… I think… I think that we had best start a basic magical education while we have this young man's attention. Though I don't know for how long he will remain with us…" Helga stated as the two women walked over towards a table that was off to the side and began explaining to Harry several of the things that were laid out on the table.

xXx No. 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging xXx
xXx Wednesday, July 24th, 1991 xXx
xXx Early Morning xXx

Harry was all smiles this fine Wednesday morning. Ever since his Aunties Helga and Rowena had deduced that he would be able to unlock Rowena's Veela Magic, just modified for a male's hormones instead of a woman's, his life at #4 Privet Drive had gone from horrible to actually quite pleasant practically overnight.

The entire change in atmosphere centered around the fact that his Veela magic made his Aunt Petunia putty in his hands. Still, it never hurt Harry anymore to help out around the house. That was why he found himself at the front door collecting the morning post. Thus it was that Harry found himself staring rather dumbly at the letter with green ink and a bloody large red wax seal on the back of it as he handed his Uncle Vernon his post.

Harry recognized that seal. That was the Hogwarts Crest, "Um… Auntie Petunia… my letter arrived, just like you said it might."

Harry watched as his Uncle Vernon's face turned a nasty shade of puke, though the large beefy man was quick to restrain himself. Even Vernon was terrified of his wife. Petunia had after all inherited the infamous Evans Family temper.

"Very well, Harry dear, I will take you to London later today, and we will see about your new school supplies while we are there," Petunia said kindly.

"Thank you Auntie," Harry said. He was after all curious to see what Hogwarts was like after roughly 1,000 years had passed. After perusing his acceptance letter and the attached supply list, Harry gave off a snort of amusement, "They cannot be serious? Robes and a pointed hat? Can they get anymore cliche?"

That seemed to placate Harry's Uncle Vernon somewhat.

xXx Gringotts Wizarding Bank xXx
xXx Mid-Morning xXx

"Ah! Mister Potter, how kind of you to join us at last," the short stocky fellow sitting behind the desk in the well appointed office stated as Harry and his Aunt Petunia entered the room, "If you would kindly be seated, we can get this meeting started."

"Excuse me, sir, but what do you mean 'at last'?" Petunia questioned.

"Well, as you should know. We have been trying to get ahold of Mister Potter for nearly three whole years now…"

"I'm sorry Keeper Ripsnout, but we have received no such communications, from you, or for that matter anyone in the Wizarding World… well aside from my Hogwarts Acceptance Letter earlier this morning that is," Harry stated in as polite a tone as possible.

"Odd… that is very odd," Ripsnout admitted as he hummed in thought momentarily. "Would you be willing to provide a sworn oath that what you have just said is the truth?"

Harry nodded and pointed his index finger towards himself, despite the fact that he lacked a wand at the current time he was still able to do this much magic… However before he could state the oath, Petunia stopped him, "Harry, we haven't been completely honest with you. If you are going to do this, you will need your full birth name, otherwise the oath will take it as you lying."

"Um… what?" Harry questioned.

"Your mother, before her death, she informed me that she had just given birth to a beautiful baby boy that she had named, Harry James Piotrevitch Rasputin-Potter, in honor of his birth father, as well as his surrogate father. I have no idea which was which though," Petunia explained.

"Y-you m-mean… I-i might still have a living parent?" Harry questioned incredulously.

"Why yes… yes I suppose that is possible," Petunia answered.

"Why hasn't he come for me? Doesn't he care?" Harry questioned with big round watery eyes.

"It is possible, Mister Potter, that he simply does not know where you are. Now the oath, if you please," the Goblin stated in an annoyed tone of voice.

Harry blinked a good number of times to clear his eyes while saying, "Oh, um… right…"

He then pointed his wand hand, forefinger first, towards himself and intoned, "I, Harry James Piotrevitch Rasputin-Potter, do hereby swear upon my magic, that to the best of my knowledge no one in the Dursley Household, myself included, has received any mail from members of the Wizarding World for the past three years, with the exception of my Hogwarts Acceptance Letter. So mote it be."

There was a flash of white light as Harry's magical aura flared briefly. Harry then pointed his finger into the air and incanted "Lumos!" causing a bright ball of white light to appear on the tip of his finger.

"Most troubling. This would imply that someone has been blocking your post, which, at least in the case of official Gringotts letters and those sent by the Ministry, is highly illegal. I will need to send a team to your home to look into possibility that mail tampering wards have been erected. In the meantime however…" the Goblin said as he pulled out a piece of blank parchment and an ornate knife with what Harry instantly recognized as Goblin runic script written all along the blade. He placed both the knife and the parchment in front of Harry and said, "Please prick your finger with the knife and allow three drops of blood to fall on the parchment. Once you are done, the wound will magically seal itself as if it had never been there."

"Of course, Keeper Ripsnout," Harry said as he picked up the knife and steeled himself for the pain he was about to feel. He then pricked his finger, which was surprisingly not as painful as he had feared it would be, which implied that the knife was incredibly sharp. With the prick made, Harry held his hand over the parchment and gently squeezed his finger, causing a large dollop of blood that was clearly of the specified size, to fall on the parchment. Once it had the wound sealed up.

Once it had, the parchment began by listing Harry's name and biographical stats, followed by a listing of titles. Last of all, it listed something that had Petunia grinding her teeth at the oddities that were allowed in the Wizarding World.

"Harry James Piotrevitch Rasputin-Potter
Parents: Piotr Rasputin and Lily Potter (née Evans)
Date of Birth: July 31st, 1980

Titles and Houses:
Heir Apparent to the House of Evans
Heir Contestant to the House of Gaunt
Heir Presumptive to the House of Rasputin
Heir Apparent to the Noble House of Potter
Heir Apparent to the Noble House of Peverell
Heir Presumptive to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black
Heir Contestant to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Slytherin
Heir Apparent to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Ravenclaw

Betrothals / Spouses:
Betrothal to Roselia Annalise Potter for the title of Lady Potter (Reason: acknowledged Life Debt)"

Harry read over the parchment a few times before looking up at his aunt and asking, "Who is Roselia?"

"Your sister…" Petunia said through grit teeth.

Harry frowned, "So… I have to marry my… sister?"

"It would seem that is indeed the case Mister Potter. While this is unusual, it is far from unheard of in the case of life debts," Ripsnout stated, he then paused as he read over the titles, "In fact, as of the current moment in time, in addition to your sister, Wizarding Society would expect you to marry another four girls. If those instances of Heir Presumptive and Heir Contestant were to be changed through some means into Heir Apparent, then you are looking at up to eight girls."

"A harem? My nephew is going to be allowed to build himself a bloody harem?" Petunia ground out.

"I'm afraid so, Ma'am," The Goblin said in a manner that stated that he was thoroughly amused by this.

xXx Hogwarts Great Hall xXx
xXx Sunday, September 1st, 1991 xXx
xXx Around Dinner Time xXx

Harry found himself standing in a line with the other first years as his right eye began twitching in annoyance due to the hat that was sitting on the stool in front of them… the hat that was apparently going to sort them into their dormitories… Dormitories that had been named after the people that laid the groundwork for this school… A school that was now in a perpetual state of antagonistic stalemate between two of those four dormitories… What the bloody hell?

And that was when the hat began to sing… and it was doing so in an exceedingly off key voice,

"Oh you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
if you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folks use any means
To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!" (1)

When Harry's turn was called, he walked up to the seat, and calmly turned to the hat, and before he put hit on, he stated in a cool and level voice that was loud enough for everyone in the hall to hear, "I call your bluff… The Archchancellor's Hat (2) is clearly superior to you in just about every way possible. That said… I will admit, you likely do hold the moral high-ground to that particular hat."

As soon as he finished speaking, the eyes of just about every Muggleborn seated at the Ravenclaw Table widened significantly as they tried desperately to prevent themselves from bursting out laughing at what had just been stated in front of the entire School.

The Sorting Hat grumbled under its breath for a moment before yelling out "RAVENCLAW!" which got the attention of the entire school's population. Never before that anyone could remember hearing about, had someone been sorted without needing to put the hat on.

Harry turned on his heel and forcefully marched himself down to the Ravenclaw Table. He then proceeded to blatantly ignore the female Ghost who he easily recognized as being the daughter of Rowena Ravenclaw, thanks to said Founder showing him what she looked like in a mirror.

xXx Potion's Classroom xXx
xXx Thursday, September Fifth xXx
xXx Early Morning xXx

Every student in the classroom except one stopped what they were doing to stare at the completely stunned expression on Professor Severus Snape's face as he observed what Harry Rasputin-Potter was doing.

Strictly speaking they were SUPPOSED to be brewing the cure for boils… but for some reason Harry had blatantly ignored that instruction and instead had begun throwing together what to every other person in the room save for the Professor, looked to be a completely random assortment of ingredients.

"Potter… where did you learn to brew Shrinking Solution?" Severus inquired in a cold tone of voice.

"Oh… is that what I'm making?" Harry asked curiously.

"Are you telling me that you were brewing a potion for which you did not know the name of?" Severus inquired.

"Actually, I was just randomly throwing ingredients into my cauldron and hoping for the best… guess I got lucky, huh?" Harry asked with a cheeky grin.

"DETENTION! And twenty points from Ravenclaw for being carelessly reckless. That said… thirty points TO Ravenclaw for a brilliantly brewed NEWT level potion in your First Year of education," Severus decried from on high.

"Of course, Professor," Harry easily acknowledged that he had been being a might bit reckless with his brewing today.

xXx Hogwarts Grounds xXx
xXx Saturday, September 7th, 1991 xXx
xXx Early Afternoon xXx

Harry was currently sitting on the grounds under a tree reading a book when a very pretty girl who looked to be in her third year of schooling approached him. She was in casual clothes, which consisted of a white short-sleeved button down blouse, and a lilac miniskirt. Her pinkish red hair was done up in a high ponytail using a lilac ribbon. What set her appearance off the most was that she possessed the same almond shaped emerald green eyes that Harry himself had.

"Um… hello, Harry. I think we need to have a bit of a chat," the girl stated.

Harry regarded her for a moment as it clicked for him who she probably was, "I believe you're right, Roselia. Have a seat."

The girl nodded as she sat down on the grass next to him, "So… you already know who I am? I had feared that our relatives wouldn't have told you about me…"

Harry cocked his head to the side as he considered how best to respond to that. Sighing he decided to answer by not answering. Instead he amped up his Veela Allure on the girl, since they were in a rather secluded section of the School.

The effect was almost instantaneous; Roselia's cheeks flushed to the same shade as her hair, and she began rubbing her thighs together in a rather provocative manner, while at the same time her eyes glazed over and she began panting. "Oh… oh wow… I'm suddenly feeling… very… very… er… yeah…"

"Horny, aroused, turned on?" Harry questioned.

Roselia's head slowly turned to regard Harry, "Er… yeah… why is that?"

"I might be using a special kind of magic to make you feel that way. It's basically how I survived my sum-mmmph…" Harry had to stop speaking there as Roselia rather forcefully planted her lips against his mouth and began snogging the stuffing out of him.

Deciding that he didn't want to go too far with his sister while they were in public at this moment, he abruptly cut off the vast majority of the power in his allure. It was unfortunate, but once a Veela, male or not, awoke their allure, they could never suppress its effects completely. There would always be a minute amount of the power wafting off of them, it is just that when repressed, it took a person with rather pathetic willpower to succumb to it.

As the power faded, Roselia broke off the kiss, though she stayed attached to his side, "You know, we are apparently betrothed, little brother."

"Yes, yes I know. Still, I'm a little young to be participating in that kind of activity, don't ya think?" Harry countered.

Roselia sighed before saying, "Yes, I suppose that is true. Still, in a few more years, I won't be able to wait. Even the way you are right now, I can already tell you are going to be particularly yummy when you mature a bit more."

Now it was Harry's turn to blush significantly. What was it with his sister. She was talking like incest was normal or something… oh right… she apparently grew up inside of the Wizarding World, where incest actually is somewhat normal. Bugger.

xXx Chapter End xXx

(1): Excerpt taken from the Novel "Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone."

(2): The Archchancellor's Hat is a sentient piece of headgear that exists inside of Terry Pratchett's Discworld novel series, specifically the novel "Sourcery" which was released in 1988. The Hat was intelligent enough that it was able to become the ruler of one of the factions in the story, something which the Sorting Hat has yet to even try doing in any fanfiction story I have ever read, hence my comment here. Oh… and no… this is not a crossover with that novel series… merely Harry citing a cultural reference.

Author's Note: Cookies to anyone who is able to guess what was going on in Snape's class.

Stat blocks won't start being published to my blog until I get to the point where I consider the story beyond the prologue arc.