Dark Lord Spooker

This is a little something one of my friends and I came up with. We own neither Slayers nor Harry Potter, and this disclaimer is rather useless as their authors can sue us anyways if they like. LaxDrake4 and I hope you enjoy this little piece of literary insanity. Warning: this has not been properly beta-read.

Hey! LaxDfake4 here just wanted to say enjoy and we own NOTHING ... Peace out and again enjoy.

HR.

Harry Potter was not what you would call a happy toddler. In fact, the three-year-old savior of the Wizarding world was down right miserable. Dudley's breakfast spilt that morning, and his Uncle had screamed at him for what seemed like an eternity before the small boy had been locked in the darkness of the cupboard beneath the stairs. The worst part was that he had been denied even the ruined scraps of his cousin's meal.

With how hungry he had been from the night before, getting nothing to eat was enough to make the child desperate for nourishment. It was in this state of primal need that Harry manifested a burst of accidental magic, causing a loaf of bread to bang against the cupboard door. The door was locked, of course, so he didn't actually get it. His efforts did not go unnoticed, or unrewarded, however.

Hours later, Harry was still recovering from his latest beating at the hands of his uncle. This beating had been worse than most of the ones he could remember, though he might have been mistaken, as he had passed out during a few of them from head trauma. If Harry was going to survive, something needed to be done, and soon. Vernon Dursley had repeatedly stated his intention of beating the magic out of Harry, and he was a fair way into making his quest a reality. Magic can only protect the brain from so much damage before important things began to be destroyed, including a wizard's ability to channel and control his magic. Harry was already nearing the border, and if he sustained even a few more such beatings within the next month, irreparable damage would be done.

There are some who claim magic is a sentient thing. Others say it is merely a force to be shaped. Each view was both right and wrong. Magic was not quite sentient, or even intelligent, but it sometimes had its moments. This was to be one of them. Take one protection ward, powered by the love shared between Harry and his relatives, with an otherwise excessively strong initial charge provided a well meaning old man after consultation with the most paranoid bugger on the British Isles. Add to this the mother's love Lily crafted into the only Dark protection ritual still considered legal in England. Granted, this probably had more to do with the fact that Lily had crafted it using bastardized forms of a number of different rituals, some bordering on the Blackest of Arts. The fire at the Potter's house also ensured that no record of it remained, save in Gringotts, which was instructed to give the spell and all of Lily's notes to Harry upon his first trip to the bank, after he received his Hogwarts letter.

The mixture of Harry's intense and immediate need for safety, the blood wards around the house, and the soul magic Lily Potter had carefully woven around her son had a very interesting interaction, resulting in something that had never been seen before. There are, on Earth, a multitude of what could be called soft spots in reality. One of these weak points just happened to be located inside the cupboard under the stairs, at 4 Privet Drive, Surrey, England. While the wards supplied the power, nearly draining them in the process, soul magic, or at least the form used on Harry, was at least vaguely intelligent by its very nature, and directed the maelstrom to come. Any world that would put a child with a family that clearly hated him was no place to live. Wherever that near portal went, it could not be worse than here, or at least it would be an acceptable gamble. With a bright flash that illuminated most of the neighborhood, the wards flared and dimmed as Harry Potter ceased to be.

HR.

As the sun just started to rise from behind the mountains, a bright flash of green eldrich energy lit the sky, emanating from the ground but visible for miles around. While there was no thunder, the rolling shockwave of intangible magic caught the attention of every creature sensitive to such things that it washed over. Some of those beasts ignored it, deciding that their breakfast was far more important. Other creatures were keenly interested and began making their way towards the anomaly. There were also, of course, a few of the former dragged along with the latter.

The first on the scene was the Trickster Priest, Xellos, as teleportation is always faster than walking. He found what appeared to be a human child, beaten and starved. Between its extreme youth and its condition, its considerable misery would not have been a suitable meal for even a mouse. "Hm," he thought to himself, "I think I know just what should be done with you." Looking out from the circle of charred earth, he added, "And they're almost here now." When the first figure crested the horizon, Xellos vanished from view, content to watch and interfere only if necessary. Unless it was amusing, of course.

"There's something here!" bellowed a draconic figure as it circled overhead. "I think it's a child!" Spiraling down, Filia landed at the edge of the clearing, transforming back into a human as she landed. Rushing over to the heap that was a child, she stopped herself from touching him when she noticed just how injured he was. "Amelia!" she yelled again. "Get over here! He's too hurt for me to help!"

Across the field, Amelia acknowledged the message and begins sprinting. A moment later, Zelgadis swept her into his arms, saying, "Allow me." Longer legs and demonic blood can be advantageous, as the chimera proved by breaking into a run that put Amelia's to shame. Soon the pair had reached the circle and were standing over the child with Filia.

As the pair dashed off, Gourry and Lina picked up the pace, doing what they could to not fall too far behind. It didn't work very well. When they joined the other three around the child, Amelia was already beginning a Resurrection spell. It was quite fortunate that the sword and sorcery team had arrived when they did, as the spell needed significantly more energy than Amelia had expected. "Oh, why couldn't Sylphiel be here?" she lamented. "I'm not nearly as good at this as she is."

Zelgadis growled angrily at the thought of a child being beaten so severely. There was no excuse for such treatment, even in the worst villages. Even most bandits tried to leave defenseless children alone, even if the child literally jumped into a sword strike. Whoever had done this would rue the day, as the chimera would return this beating three fold.

"Aw, man," Lina griped. "And here I was hoping to go a full day without having to Fireball someone." While the wording was not the best, the sentiment, at least, was pure.

On the Astral Plane, where he was mocking the strange apparition that surrounded the boy, Xellos nearly gagged. While righteous anger was much too sweet for his tastes, it was much more palatable than what he had been getting lately. His favorite supply of depression had been far too happy of late, and there was very little the mazoku could do about it.

"So," Gourry began, scratching his cheek, "who's going to take care of him?"

"Huh, you're right," Lina agreed. "Taking care of a kid is supposed to be pretty hard. I'd hate to have to be the one taking care of him all by myself."

"Why don't you all raise him together?" Xellos suggested, fading into view. "You all have such wonderful skills you can share with him. Like playing the guitar."

Zelgadis growled for a moment at what could have been an insult. "While that is an idea, why would you want us to do that?"

"That is," the Trickster Priest said, wagging a finger, "a secret."

HR.

Despite the strength of Amelia's healing spell, it took a full three days before the child regained consciousness, and even then just for a brief time. It took until the end of the week for the young boy to truly recover from the physical effects of his ordeal, though any psychological scars would need to be worked on as they appeared. When he moved, the others closed in, hoping that this time the child would stay awake long enough to tell them his name, though knowing how he had gotten into the middle of nowhere with a surge of magic unlike anything they had experienced would be nice, too.

As Harry awoke, the first thing he noticed was that the pain was gone. The second, and more unusual revelation was that he wasn't feeling thirsty, or even hungry. He had, after previous beatings, occasionally woken up feeling fine but extremely hungry, and usually very thirsty as well. As he became increasingly aware of his surroundings, he heard the sounds of a number of people gathering around him. Hopefully he wasn't in a hospital again. Aunt Petunia had locked him in the cupboard for a whole two days last time. "Hey kid, you alright?" he heard a female said, causing him to shrink away from her harsh tone.

The assortment of people, and Xellos, crowding around the boy leaned closer as he opened his eyes, eager to meet the person they had cared for over the last week. The only one to stay back, somewhat, was Zelgadis, who was quite used to being considered a monster. The ones who should be considered monsters, the mazoku, the dragon, and, according to a large number of random villagers, Lina, could all easily pass as human. It was a surprise, then, when, after a brief bout of panic, the young lad pushed through the crowd and hid himself within Zelgadis' cloak.

The others could only blink in shock, other than Xellos who's eyes were closed to begin with, at the odd occurrence. Zelgadis was so surprised that he, out of everyone there, was the one the child had gone to, that it took him nearly a minute react. "Hey," he asked, crouching down to lower himself to the child's level, "what's your name? You can call me Zelgadis, or Zel, if you'd prefer."

Peaking out from the the blue man's cloak, Harry looked around cautiously before saying, "I'm Hawwy." He gave another look towards the normal people, well, relatively normal, the clothes were rather strange, and asked, "They won't huwt me fow being a fweak?"

"Freak?" Filia screeched in rage. How could anybody call a perfectly normal child like this Harry before her a frak? So enraged was she that she failed to notice that Harry was doing his best to hide further into the chimera's cloak. "If I ever get my hands on who ever told you that...!" The gold dragon trailed off when she noticed an odd weight suddenly attached to her tail. It was then that she realized she had gotten so upset that her transformation had released slightly. And now her tail was being treated like a stuffed animal as the child cuddled up to it. The shock of the child's rapid change in behavior calmed Filia down significantly. While she could have hidden her tail again, decided that she found Harry cuddling it to be cute.

Harry, safely hidden in Zel's cloak and hugging his new favorite tail, warily looked at the other people who were with them. Three of them were glowing in a manner that the three-year-old knew could not possibly be normal, and the last of them was really weird. He looked almost happy. The child decided to figure it out later. He had a tail that needed cuddling.

HR.

Over the next few months, Harry successfully integrated himself into Aunt Lina's group. His aunts all doted over him, though each did so in her own way. Aunt Filia always let him cuddle her tail, assuming they weren't in a village or something at the time. Aunt Amelia would tell Harry tales about their adventures and the triumph of Justice. And Aunt Lina gave him lots of shinies; they were pretty. His uncles also showered him with attention when it could be spared. Uncle Zel would play guitar while Uncle Gourry would act silly. Uncle Xellos, though... he was a little strange, always making faces behind Harry's back.

Quickly enough, the group began to see signs of uncontrolled magic around their camps. They knew that it could not be Lina, Amelia, or Zelgadis, as all three were masters in their fields, and Filia only had trouble with her transformation magics, which was too obvious to be anything else. Of course, it very easily could have been Xellos, he seemed to find it amusing enough, but rarely were they even moderately annoying. The incidents were definitely not anything a mazoku of his caliber would bother with. By process of elimination, despite how improbable it may have seemed, Harry had to be the culprit.

Even with the amount of damage the group caused, they couldn't allow an untrained sorcerer to cast spells without purpose. There was, of course, only one thing to be done. Yes, it was going to be hard, but Lina, Amelia, and Zelgadis knew that they were the only ones suited for the task at hand. Well, Xellos did offer his assistance, but no one felt Harry needed that kind of help.

Thus, Harry began his unofficial studies in magic. Technically, he should have gone to an Academy, but they were too far away to just casually stop by. Besides, everyone liked the nomadic lifestyle they had developed, and Zelgadis was still looking for a cure for his complexion issues. As it stood, though, Harry might actually have received a better education by staying out of a formal setting. He was taking lessons in Shamanistic Magic from Zelgadis, White Magic from Amelia, and Black Magic from Lina. Each was a master in their own field, and Lina was in a league of her own, so the education they could provide was rather complete.

Each of his instructors took him in turn for a few hours everyday, varying the order and duration of each class everyday on a weekly schedule, as being too structured would be boring and confining to the developing mind. To increase the diversity of each day's activities, Harry was learning subjects other than just magic.

Filia, wanting to have something to contribute, as her particular style of magic was impossible for a human to learn, decided that Harry needed to learn a variety of languages and the beginnings of dragon lore. Xellos was discouraged from teaching their charge anything; he still worked on Harry's sense of humor, much to everyone's annoyance. Gourry was working on the foundations of sword fighting; he was a surprisingly good teacher. Amelia was instructing Harry in history, culture, and some small amount of diplomacy. Lina was doing what she could to teach Harry about economics, finances, and haggling. That last task was doomed to take quite some time.

HR.

"Harry, do you know what happened to my cape?" Lina asked, holding up the remains of the once vibrant garment. It was now covered in a myriad of different stains, ranging from common dirt and grass to things the redhead didn't really want to think about it.

Harry fidgeted slightly under his aunt's reproving gaze. "Maybe," he finally admitted in a sing-song voice.

"Well," Lina prompted. "What happened?"

Harry waggled a finger and answered, "That is a secwet."

HR.

As Harry turned five, he looked back on his life these past two years. While his family had initially worried about him when they had discovered that Harry was most definitely not from their world. It was plainly obvious that such concerns were unfounded, as the boy had thrived in what his old world might consider primitive. It was the lack of cars, really. The things were about as common as trolls back in what he remembered was called England.

Harry was also quite proud about how his training was coming along. While he was nowhere near ready to even attempt any of the higher level spells, he had the theory for several of of them down. As for the lesser spells... Uncle Xellos did make a good target. The young mage prided himself on having remained equally focused on all three of the magical disciplines while still achieving the level of excellence his aunts and uncle demanded. At the rate he was learning, he might be able to graduate even earlier than Aunt Lina had!

Uncle Gourry had also been continuing his training with the sword, and Harry was even occasionally allowed to take on a bandit by himself! True, his family was always nearby in case anything went wrong. Recently Uncle Zelgadis had joined his sword training as, even though Uncle Gourry was better, Uncle Zelgadis' style had different techniques and could be helpful in creating a style best suited for himself. Even Aunt Filia had decided to give Harry lessons in armed combat, specifically with a mace. Once again, he tried to keep a nice balance in his training, in order to please all of his Aunts and Uncles, making him competent, if not excellent in each of those fields for someone of his age. He could always learn more when he was a little older and strong enough to swing the mace or sword properly for some of the more complicated moves.

Over the last year Uncle Zelgadis had also taught him the basics of playing the guitar. While it was nothing complicated, Harry enjoyed playing, and Aunt Lina enjoyed all the money the women in the various towns and cities would give him. Apparently he was too cute to not give coins to when he was playing. For some reason, Uncle Xellos was never around when this happened, and he would always complain of an upset stomach. Harry was also very proud of his guitar, as, with a large amount of help from Uncle Zelgadis, he had made it himself.

Yes, Harry decided, he much preferred his new home to the one he still remembered far too vividly. While it strange, and dangerous here, having a loving family was much more important to the young boy. After all, his former home had been dangerous, too, and that was because of his aunt and uncle there. Given the choice of staying here and nearly dieing on almost a daily basis or going back to that place, he'd Fireball the person asking.

HR.

It was Harry's sixth birthday, and he had asked his aunts and uncles to get him a pet. Unfortunately, Lina had declared that no one was to buy him a pet, on the grounds that their budget couldn't handle it until their next major bandit camp. When Xellos brought up the possibilities of using esoteric methods of acquiring a pet for their charge, she had Fireballed him and began ranting about not giving Harry a demon. Especially not after the last time.

The day after, they had stumbled upon a strange temple, that had the usual signs of being heavily trapped, the pile of bodies near the door being a major clue. As per usual, Harry was made to wait outside, this time with Filia. On the bright side, it did give the boy a chance to practice his Draconic. Filia was quite proud of her pupil. He was already almost a fluid speaker, with an accent that really couldn't be avoided with a human larynx.

Inside the temple, they found not much. There were a few jewels, which were quickly collected, a few scraps of fabric, and some crumbling statues. It only took an hour to complete find and claim everything of value, even while making sure all of it was safe to handle. They were on their way out when something caught Gourry's eye. Walking over, he bent down, picked the object up, and left, small statue in hand. He never noticed that the statue's eyes flashed yellow for a brief moment.

HR.

"Wow!" Harry exclaimed, looking at the sword and mace laid out before him. "Thanks Uncle Zelgadis! Thanks Aunt Filia!"

"You're welcome, Harry," Zelgadis replied. "Just be sure to take good care of it."

Harry nodded his head excitedly. "Don't worry, I will."

"I know it's a little big," Filia said, gesturing towards the large mace, "but I'm sure you'll grow into it."

"Here you go, Harry," Lina said, handing a necklace with a a thick golden chain attached to a large amulet. "It's a protective talisman I made for you."

"Thanks, Aunt Lina," the now seven-year old said, giving her a hug.

Once the two parted, Amelia stepped forward and handed Harry a bundle of fabric. Harry shook out the cloth and happily exclaimed, "Wow! It's a cape! Thanks Aunt Amelia!"

"Wear it with pride, and shine as a just warrior of justice!" the purple haired sorceress exclaimed, fist raised proudly in the air.

"Isn't that a little redun..." Gourry began before being cut off by Zelgadis. Finally, after Harry had donned his cape and managed to trip a full three times, once taking his aunt with him, the swordsman stepped forward. "I know ya wanted a pet, but Lina said no, and I thought this might help a little." Reaching into his bag, he withdrew the statue from earlier and handed it to his nephew.

Harry looked over the serpentine statue and marveled at the detail carved into the stone. For instance, he could see distinct feathers and scales across its surface. Turning back to Gourry, Harry gave him a hug, saying, "Thank you, Uncle Gourry. It's great."

"And I," Xellos said, appearing with a chain in hand, "have gotten you a pet."

"Really?" Harry asked excitedly. "What is it?"

In lieu of answering, Xellos just closed his eyes tighter, leaned back, and pulled hard on the chain. The thing that came forward was most definitely not pet material. It had huge, sharp teeth and claws that were almost as long as Harry. It's orange fur with bright green spots made it hard to look at, and the tentacles growing off its back looked none too friendly. Flapping it's wings, the beast roared and charged towards Harry. "I named it Fluffy," Xellos happily stated.

Jumping in front of Harry, Gourry drew his sword and shouted, "Harry, run!" Knowing that he couldn't help in this fight and that he would only be a hindrance, Harry nodded his understanding, turned, and fled.

"Harry's safe," Filia called before shifting into her true form. If all else failed, hopefully a dragon's fire would put it down.

"Good! Then I can really cut loose!" Lina said, feral grin firmly in place. "Bram-Blazer!" The blue wave of magic crashed against the monster... and did absolutely nothing.

HR.

Several hundred meters away, Harry was huddled behind a hill and under his cape. He knew how messy his family could be while fighting, and getting covered in monster bits would not be fun. Sighing sadly, he looked down at the statue Gourry had given him. It, the protection amulet, and his cloak were the only things he had had on hand when he had been told to run. Hopefully his other presents would survive the battle as well.

"I should have known better than to trust Uncle Xellos to get me a real pet," the boy grumbled, understandably upset. "After all, he is a mazoku, like he keeps telling me. Why is my family so weird?" After a few more minutes of fighting, which, as he could hear, had been steadily escalating, he sighed again. "All I wanted was a pet," he said quietly, a tear coming to his eye. The tear fell, landing squarely on the statue's head.

There was a blinding flash of light and a shattering sound as the statue in Harry's hands began crumbling away, causing the poor boy to panic. A second later, he heard a soft voice cry, "I LIVE! MWAHAHAHAHA!!!" The thing coughed sheepishly and continued, "Sorry about that. Being a statue that long can make you a bit... stir crazy. Yes, let's go with that."

Harry looked down at his hands, where the voice was coming from, and gasped in shock. Where his statue had been, was an identical winged snake, with only the base missing. Its body was a light brown with darker spots along its length; the scales, themselves had an iridescent sheen. Then there were the wings. Harry had never seen a snake with wings before, but he assumed the five centimeter long, glossy, black wings would be considered impressive on a ten centimeter serpent. Harry would have said something, but, even for his family, talking snakes coming out of statues is strange.

From Harry's hands, the serpent looked up. "Hi?... Hello?..." It sighed. "Probably can't even understand me..." Taking up a decidedly sulking posture, the winged snake continued its grumbling, "Figures. I'm finally freed, and the stupid human can't even understand me."

"Hey!" Harry shouted indignantly. "I can too understand you!" A fraction of a second later he added, "And I'm not stupid!"

"Keep telling yourself that, kid," the black-winged serpent muttered. Luckily, it was too quiet for Harry to catch. "So anyway, kid, who are you?"

"Oh, um, I'm Harry."

"Just Harry?" the snake asked. "Aren't you humans supposed to have two names?"

"Well, I have somewhere between two and eight," Harry replied. "I think."

"Whatever you say, kid. Before you ask, I'm male. You can call me Haietlik." With a smirk he added, "Or I'll bite you."

HR.

Whatever Xellos had found, it was tough. Despite their efforts to use less destructive magics, mostly because this was a nice clearing, and it would have been a shame to destroy it, Lina had needed a Dragon-Slave to put the thing down. Luckily, though, nothing important had been damaged, though Xellos was looking slightly singed. This was, in part, due to Amelia grabbing everything into a pile and doing what she could to project a barrier around it.

Once the thing was dead and mostly cleaned up, Lina shouted, "Okay, Harry, get out here!"

"So it's dead?" Harry called back, already on his way back. Not much can survive a Dragon Slave, so he figured he was safe enough. Besides, anything that Lina's third strongest spell, second if you only counted the ones she would cast, didn't kill would probably kill him even if he had gone out a kilometer. Thus, Harry was back at what used to be there camp within in only a fraction of the time it should have taken.

"Of course it is," Gourry said, happy grin firmly on his face. "Lina'd never let it hurt you."

"Right," Lina agreed. "You can't get yourself killed until after I've finished training you."

"I love you,too, Aunt Lina," Harry said with a smirk. Turning to Gourry, he launched himself into a flying hug and cried, "Thanks for the pet, Uncle Gourry!"

"Huh? Pet?" Gourry asked. "Oh! You mean the statue I gave you. I guess it would make a nice pet rock."

From the collar of Harry's jacket a small serpentine figure arose. "I'll show you a rock," it hissed.

"A coatl," Lina gasped. "Those went extinct more than a millennia ago!"

"Well, now," Haietlik scoffed, "doesn't that just make me feel special."

Harry fought back a laugh in order to ask, "So, can I keep him?"

Lina paused to think for a second. "We didn't pay for him, so I don't see why not."

"Lina means yes," Amelia translated, well used to the redhead's frugal nature. Then again, it might not have been necessary, considering the boy had been partially raised by Lina.