Well well, I do believe this is one of my many Harry Potter stories that I've attempted to write since I've had this account. I'll hopefully be able to actually flesh this out and make this an interesting story. Hopefully you all will enjoy. This will be set in modern times, so instead of Harry being born in 1981, he will be born in 1996, so this will roughly put him at the age of 17. Hogwarts won't have 11th year old students. The first year students will be 14, and so on and so forth. He'll receive his letter from Slade, who prompts him to go seek out Hogwarts. During this, the Triwizard Tournament will occur. I do hope this makes sense to you all. This will have a small crossover, with one D.C. character known as Deathstroke. I'm sure you've all heard of him? No? Go to Google and type up 'Deathstroke', you fools! Kidding, kidding. 3 Let's get started, shall we?

"Get out here and fix our breakfast, boy!" A yell was heard from within the house of one 4 Privet Drive, home to the Dursleys. Now Vernon Dursely, the husband was a whale by any mean of the word, big and slow to move unless it was with anger. Then the big mammoth was almost as fast a man who exercised somewhat. The wife, Petunia Dursley was a petite woman with a horse-like face, her lips almost always in a scowl when it came to her 'nephew'. Dudley Dursley was a mini-whale in the making, and a bully to the more unfortunate people, like his cousin.

Now, this boys' name was Harry Potter and he was taken in by the Dursley's only due to the fact that a man in 'pajama's and the longest beard they have ever seen' claimed it was for his benefit and theirs. Harry Potter was magical, son to James and Lilly Potter, both whom were killed by an evil Dark Wizard named Voldemort, who wanted to kill the Potters to prevent a prophecy from coming true. However, on the event of the attack, July 8, 1996, Voldemort was defeated by a mere toddler, Lilly's love protecting young Harry. And so the Dark Lord was vanquished and Harry an orphan. Dumbledore sent him to the Dursley's so they could raise him, since Remus Lupin was in hiding and Sirius Black was in prison. This was the only option Harry had, Dumbledore saw. However, another option would come barreling into Harry's life within the next few minutes.

Harry reluctantly left his 'room', the small space under the stairs, before he shuffled into the kitchen, beginning to make their breakfast. "Don't burn the eggs, boy." Petunia snapped.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia." Harry mumbled, setting out the breakfast for his 'family', looking at it longingly. He was a mere 10 years of age, malnourished and sickly looking. Seeing as how he wasn't needed anymore, he retreated to his 'room' to grab his shoes before quietly sneaking out the front door, knowing that they wouldn't care either way. The small boy made his way the park, his emerald green eyes observing the surrounding area. Seeing no sign of Dudley or his buddies, Harry made an attempt for the tire swing, only for a pudgy fat foot to trip him up a moment later.

"Watch where you're going, freak." Duddly sneered, before stomping down on Harry's hand, earning a small shout of pain from Harry. "Too bad your Mummy and Daddy aren't here to save you. Hell, no one is going to save a freak like you, Potter!" He kicked Harry in the ribs, only to be jerked back from Harry by an unseen foe, Dudley looking up in fear. Harry looked up through tear filled eyes due to the pain, gasping softly at the man in front of him.

The man had an half black and half orange helmet on, only the left eye being visible. He stared down at Harry before turning to Dudley, his left hand on his gun holster, fingering the handle. He was decked out from head to toe in a type of military like outfit. Body armor and a vest protected his upper body, while tactical pants, shin guards and combat boots covered his lower half. "Are you okay, boy?" The male asked gruffly.

"Yeah, I'm fine." Harry said hesitantly. Who was this man and why was he helping him?

"Get up, and get ready to leave." The male said briskly.

"Leave? Leave where?" Harry questioned.

"You're coming with me. I've seen how these...humans, have treated you and I think you're in need of something more proper." The male said, regarding Harry with his one eye before he turned back to Dudley. "You didn't see anything, nor did you see this young boy. If you do, I am afraid you'll have to say goodbye to mommy and daddy." Harry caught onto his accent, the voice sounding from the States, if the people on the telly were any indication. Dudley nodded once, before getting up and running away. The male turned to Harry and held out his hand, "I'm Slade. And you are?"

"I'm Harry Potter." Harry said, shaking his hand after a moment, still dumbfounded.

"Let me see your fingers." Slade said, pointing to the hand Dudley had stepped on. Harry showed him, while Slade inspected it. "No signs of breakage, so that's good. Probably just hurt when the mammoth stomped on it with his giant foot." He murmured, before looking at Harry. "Ready?" Harry nodded, not really having anything back at the Dursley's house. The two departed, Slade going to teach Harry all that he knew, so that the assassin would have a proper heir by the time he died within seven years. The deadly assassin had been diagnosed with cancer, and that was the approximation he was given to live with. That was fine with him, he had lived a good life. But he didn't have an heir. 'Until now, it seems.' He mused slightly, looking at the small boy walking beside him.

XxXx

"Again." Slade's voice commanded, watching as his protegee threw his knife, the blade landing in the center of the bullseye. He nodded approvingly, before he looked over at his student and surgogate son. Harry had filled out, not being malnourished or mistreated since he picked Harry up from Privet Drive, Whinging. Harry was now 170 lbs, 5'8 and built to like a fighter. Not too big, but not too small. Tough enough to take damage, and tough enough to dish it out. He had trained Harry within hand-to-hand combat, various kata styles, firearm training and various weapon training. Harry had taken after Slade in some aspects. He wore a motorcross jacket that was supposed to protect your upper body, wearing a white T shirt underneath. Black combat pants, shin guards and combat boots completed the look. The boy even had his own form of helmet. A simple gray helmet, reflective lenses where the eyes should be. Mimicked a mask from a 'hunter' from some game called 'Destiny'. Slade didn't know what it meant, but if it worked, it worked. "Are you ready for your first target?" Slade asked.

"Yes sir." Harry replied stiffly, staring at his master from behind his mask.

"Good. You are to go to Privet Drive, Whinging, England. Your targets are the Dursleys." Harry stiffened, as Slade watched him with a critical eye. "What's the matter, Harry? Getting cold feet already?"

"No sir." Harry barked back, standing straight up as he looked at Slade. He knew his master didn't have much time left, but he wouldn't start to show fear just at the mention of his previous torture's names. He could do this. He had been training for seven years, after all. He was ready for this.

"Then get a move on. Your money is in your account, and the jet is ready along with all the equipment you'll need for this hit, or any hits in the future." Slade walked over to him and held out his hand. Harry shook it and Slade stepped back. "We both knew this day would be coming. That I would be too weak to continue. Don't bother coming back here. It won't be here if you try to come back. It'll be nothing but a piece of flat land, the building we're in now destroyed and moved away by bulldozers. I'm proud of the man you've become, Harry. Very proud. Also, I do suppose it's time for you to go to where you belong." Harry was confused whenever Slade pulled out a letter, his name on the front. "This came for you a few days back, their kind being able to finally track us. I suggest you read it on the way there, and see if you can't make heads or tails of it. I've read one of these before, while you were asleep. I honestly think it's a good idea and that you should check it out. Good luck, Harry."

Harry took the letter, nodding as he began to walk away from the only father figure he had known his entire life, exiting out the door and getting onto his motorcycle, heading for the airport. After boarding his jet and well on his way toward his old personal Hell, Harry opened the letter and began to read it.

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on 1 September. We await your owl by no later than 31 July.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

UNIFORM

First-year students will require:

OTHER EQUIPMENT

Students may also bring, if they desire, an owl OR a cat OR a toad.

PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS

ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICK

Harry folded up the letter and pocketed it, as he began to think. Hogwarts? Magic? Wands? Yeah, he might humor his old master and give it a try. But instead of quill pens or a telescope, he would bring a regular ink pen and binoculars. Those worked better in his line of work. He looked out the window and noticed that they were heading into into Whinging now, landing at the airport. After exiting his jet, he started up his motorcycle and headed toward his old house hold, intent on completing the contract he was given.

XxXx

"Wake up, maggots." A voice growled out, a slap jarring Dudley awake. He found himself bound and gagged to a chair, same for his parents. All three were disoriented and confused as to what was going on. Dudley took note of the male in front of him and began to cry for help behind his gag. "Don't bother, it won't help you here." The male spoke, his voice having a slight American accent to it, despite him being clearly British. He stood up from his chair and chuckled slightly. "I'm going to remove your gags, but if you scream, I'll cut out your tongues. Understand?" Seeing all three nod, he removed the gags and leaned against the wall, observing all three. "So, Dursleys, how have you been?"

Vernon paled while Petunia made a small choking noise, Dudley quivering slightly. Could it really be...? Could it possibly be the boy from his childhood? The one he bullied relentlessly? Tormented and made cry? Could this really be Harry Potter?

"Ah, so you remember me? That's good to hear. However, I'm not here to socialize. I'm here for business." Harry spoke coldly, before he pulled out his knife, tossing it up and down in the air without a care in the world.

"Wait! Please, don't! We fed you and clothed you and housed you for the first ten years of you life! Doesn't that count for something?!" Petunia whispered harshly, her eyes wide with fear.

"Whenever the first ten years are spent being a slave and abused? No, it doesn't count for jack shit." Harry growled out before stabbing the knife into Petunia's head, slamming his finger into Dudley's eyeball and gouging it out, and kicking Vernon over before crushing the elder Dursley's throat. Dudley was the only one left alive, before having his throat slit. His job done, Harry put away his knife and began to tidy up, only to hear several 'pops' outside of the house. He froze slightly, before drawing his guns and stepping toward the door silently and cautiously. The door burst open to reveal a man in purple robes with stars on them, a hat on top of his head, his moon like spectacles over his face while his gray beard gleamed in the moonlight. Harry and the elder man had a stand off, neither of them firing. "Who're you?"

"I'm Albus Dumbledore. And you are..?" The elderly man inquired kindly, despite having his wand at the ready. Harry regarded it momentarily before flickering back to meet the elder's eyes. However, that proved to be a mistake and as soon as Harry did, he felt his head go slightly hazy, a foreign prescence in his mind. He removed his gaze and fired a warning shot. "Invade my mind again, and I won't miss." He snarled, anger within his voice.

"Harry...You're Harry Potter. My boy, where have you been?!" Dumbledore cried out, shock evident in his voice.

And boom. What did you all think of this story? Granted, it was written at 1:30 AM and completed at 2:00 AM, it's going to be rough. Hopefully you all will enjoy, leave CONSTRUCTIVE feedback and tell me what I need to revise with this first chapter. I did say that Deathstroke's role would be small. And by small I meant one chapter small.

-V