This is a rewrite of my best story on this pretigious site, An Interesting Development. I shall be redoing the entire story up to where it is, improving on plot and spelling points, hopefuly expanding the depth and fixing what now seems to be a miryad of issues.

I have decided here is where I shall include some information that seemed to escape a few people.

Tonks is young. This is her first year as well. Took 4 chapters to drill that into your skulls.

If you don't like the story, or think it's too cliche'd, then just go ahead and close the browser, I shant think less of you.

If you do continue to read, I ask that when you review, please include something that you would like to see, or some speculation on what might happen. Anything longer than 'great job' or 'can't wait' would be nice.

Yes, I realize, after re-reading, the original story was crap. This is me fixing it. I know that there shall be many different things, but then, I was but a wee lad in the HP fanfiction area. This time since the hiatus has improved my knowledge of cliches, and I seek to branch out. I know there are such things as overpowered/god like/ has every special ability in the book/ animagus forms coming out his ass/ and a plethora of other things, so I am going to tone it down. He will have an awesome animagus, but I can't decide between magical or non magical. Dumbledore will be improved, as will my not so subtle hints at his senileness.

Also. The plot. Whilst I am rewriting to make sense, there will be a change. More than that, this, to some people, will be considered a crossover fic.

On with the story.

The sharp impact against his side sent him tumbling. From his view point, the world spun, everything revolving around his head. He hit the floor on his side, leaving his back exposed. Another sharp pain, this time his body folded backwards quickly. Multiple pops signalled either the somewhat natural popping of nitrogen bubbles between the bones, or a far more serious injury to his spinal column. Given that this felt far more painful, he was inclined to believe the latter.

Ever since he could remember, this had been his life. Wake up, cook a veritable feast for his three housemates, go to school, get bullied by Dudley, return home, do chores, cook dinner, and get crammed in his cupboard, where he would do homework furiously for 45 minutes while he still had light from the grill poking through.

Before and after school he was regularly abused and beaten, always under the pretence of 'fixing' him. He knew what was wrong with him. Well, it wasn't really wrong, so much as different.

At a young age, he discovered he could do interesting things. At first, it was only when his emotions were powerful. He could shrink sweaters, change other people's hair color. One time, he even managed to travel instantaneously in another spot, right before he was caught in a game of 'Harry Hunting.' After a while, he discovered that this was magic. Only magic could explain his abilities. His abilities to make the impossible possible.

But there was something else. Something different about him. It was indescribable, what exactly it was. It existed in him, and was as much a part of him as he was a part of it. All he knew was it manifested itself in two ways.

First, knowledge. Knowledge of everything. He could look at a page in a book, see it only at a glance, and remember every single thing about it. It was more than knowledge. It was like having the most advance super computer in his head. The other way, the other way it manifested itself though was horrifying to him.

Hunger. Not for food, not for drink, not even for an experience or feeling. He hungered for energy. He managed to get it to feed on his magic, siphoning what he thought was an appropriate amount to it to keep it satiated. But it was always there. A hunger for energy. A hunger for power. He often wondered what might happen if he stuck his hand in a power socket, would it kill him, or feed the beast?

He was brought out of his thoughts by another kick, this time to his hip. This sent him down the stairs, landing painfully at the bottom. He laid there, his face an expression of extreme pain. At the top of the stairs, a large, obese man with a walrus like face colored like an old tomato, screamed at him. The words were sludgy, distorted. His head was spinning, having impacted the hard banister on the way down. The new hard wood flooring everywhere made his injuries all the more painful. Before he knew it, he was being hauled into his cupboard. The door was closed, latch locked, and grill snapped shut.

In the darkness, the young boy, with hair as black as night, and eyes that seemed to glow with eldritch flames, Harry Potter dreamt. He dreamt of fire, of destruction, of endless possibilities. His dreams ended the same however, with blue fire and a green flash, followed by the sensation of flying.

Chapter 1 – The Beginning

When he awoke, it was like always. His injuries were healed, the blood was gone, and he felt fine. It was exactly 4 am, and it was a Saturday. Dudley's birthday was today. He had been told, right before his beating yesterday, that he would be expected to have a lavish breakfast prepared for the family.

Deciding that he needed food as well, he quickly got dressed in his oversized hand me down clothes, and headed for the kitchen. The sun was barely out, leaving the kitchen colored grey. Despite what some might consider the most beautiful part of the day, sunrise in Surrey was a depressing time. Constant cloud cover and fog didn't go away until about 9, so everyone started the day depressed.

Although he was only 7 years old, Harry managed the kitchen like a professional. Bacon was put on the frying pan, eggs in another. Hash browns were put in the oven, while water was boiled for the tea. Part of the manifestation of knowledge, as Harry called it, was an uncanny ability to keep track of things. In all his years of making meals for the Dursleys, he had only burnt or spoiled the food three times.

While all that was cooking, he took a smaller pan and prepared his own food.

For years, the Dursleys bought far too much food, mostly because they went through it all at an amazing rate. Vernon and his son, Dudley, were extremely obese for their ages. He had no doubt they would be dead long before they should be naturally. The rate at which they ate food was alarming, but it provided a good excuse as to why they always bought more. It left him the chance to grab some for himself before they awoke.

Petunia always ate to little, contributing to her elongated appearance and overly defined bone structure. She would always have half a grapefruit with tea in the morning, while dinner was significantly less than what the other two ate.

Harry was always able to sneak in a portion of food for himself. While not enough for his body, it kept him going, and provided some nutrients for his body. He was short for his age, only 4 feet tall. Most kids in his class were 4 and a-half feet tall. Dudley was the average, but he was also wider than any other kid in school, even wider than some of the teachers.

With his food ready, a small omelete mixed with some bacon, a sausage link, and a hash brown on the side, he ate quickly, managing the feast on the stove and in the oven while he was at it.

When he was done, he laid it out on the table, right as the three people sat down at the table. While they ate, he cleaned the dishes, removing them from the dining room as they ate all of what he made.

With breakfast done, the birthday celebration moved into the living room, where a mountain of presents were kept, awaiting Dudley.

He stayed in the kitchen, cleaning the dishes, while Dudley had a tantrum over not having more presents than last year.

Harry snorted, drying the last plate. You could give Dudley a mountain of gold, a literal mountain, and he would never consider it enough. He would be just as likely to ask for another, or complain that it's not big enough.

The phone rang, and Petunia walked over to the phone. Looking at her, he noticed how she walked. She had a small hunch in her back, while her shoulders were higher than they should be. She didn't take actual steps as much as she shuffled, as if trying not to bend her knees. All in all, she looked very tense, like every muscle was stretched tight, pulling her inwards. If she had a cape, he might mistake her for some sort of bat.

He didn't care who she was talking to. Probably Ms. Figg. She kept an eye on him when the Dursleys went out on trips. Trips to the mall, trips to the theme park, that one trip to France. Whenever trips like that happened, he stayed with the crazy cat lady. Then again, she usually fell asleep after grabbing photo albums of her cats, so he was able to take walks around the community.

He did perk up when she hung up and faced Vernon.

"Bad news Vernon. Ms. Figg broke her leg. She's unable to watch the boy." Harry frowned. This was unusual. What exactly would they do with him? They sure as hell weren't taking him. Vernon had made it clear when Petunia told him to clean the car that he was not to even look at it. That was one of the very few chores Dudley did. Vernon claimed it was a man's car, so a man would do it.

"Is there anyone that can take it in for the day?" grumbled Vernon. He despised the boy. One of the many reasons he did so was because of the boys seemingly freakish ability to heal from anything in a night.

"No. Marge is on vacation, and we can't reasonably leave him with the neighbours." Vernon grumbled, letting loose a string of curses probably not conclusive to raising a child. Even if Harry was a 'freak' and Dudley was an aspiring beach ball.

From out of nowhere, startling even Harry, Dudley started screaming.

"I *huh* don't want *huh* him com*i*i*ing! H*e ruin*n*ns everything!" Harry should have expected this, but realistically, this was a bit much even for Dudley. His parents rushed over, comforting him, telling him they would sort it all out and nothing would ruin his day.

Harry sighed, finishing his morning chores, heading for the cupboard. He still had some homework, and of the few things the Dursleys gave up on trying to beat out of him, it was his perfect grades.

Chapter1 – The Beginning

The car door slammed, and the brand new car rolled out of the driveway and left, leaving the house in silence. For a short while.

The soft creaking of small hinges echoed throughout the house. From under the stairs emerged Harry, a glint in his eyes.

Not bothering to close the door, he headed for the back door. The glass slid open quietly, the first bit of sun lighting up the back porch nicely. Fresh air, scented with morning dew filled his nostrils. This was one of the benefits to being alone. On his walks, he could enjoy nature, so different from the interior of the Dursley household, with all its white walls, chrome, steel, and chemical cleaner smell.

He was relaxing, enjoying the sun for however long he could, when a shadow blocked his vision. Opening his eyes, he looked at it.

It was a large falcon, descending towards him. It wasn't attacking, nor was it screeching. It was just slowly descending towards him, something clutched in its claws.

When it was a few feet away, close enough for Harry to see the red and black feathers, it opened it's claws, dropping the letter expertly into his lap. It flew away, returning to wherever it came from. All in all, the experience took no longer than a minute. Harry dumbly looked at the letter.

He did not know anyone who would write to him, let alone train a falcon to drop a letter into his lap. It couldn't have been the Dursleys, animals hate them on principle. Glancing down, he took hold of the paper, turning it over.

On the back was a heavy chunk of wax, pressed with an elaborate G. The paper was some old, thick parchment, yellowed around the edges. The front was addressed in a most curious fashion. In black, blocky letters, it read:

Mr. Harry J. Potter

With no other indication of who it belonged to, Harry took it into the kitchen, grabbing a knife from the rack. He quickly slit it along the top, opening the contents, and changing his life forever.

[A.N.] Yeh, so it's a bit different. Scrap that, I pretty much lied in the first author notes. So sue me. This story is both a re-write of An Interesting Development, and introducing a new idea I've been toying with.

Should you enjoy the story, thank you.