Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Summary: When Harry is betrayed people who he thought was his friends, betrayed for fame, money and influence. After learning of his heritage, of multiple lordship, plus some lines that had thought been long lost. Crossover with LOTR

Warnings: child abuse, bashing of certain people. Some scenes of death.

This story will only be around twenty chapters, each chapter will be around a thousand words or more

All unknown spells come from Imperator Atrum's story called Spells & Creatures. Link: s/2147931/1/

Beginning of pensieve memory

October 31, 1981

Standing on the corner of the street, hidden under his Invisibility cloak, oh how he longed for the true Invisibility cloak, Albus Dumbledore stood and watched. Watched the "supposedly" evil Lord Voldemort kill two promising young wizards. His gaze keen and sharp as the third and final green light lit up the nursery.

Then the cottage heaved under a backlash of magic. Moving along, Albus wondered what he would see, would Voldemort have finished off the last direct line of Gryffindor and died in the attempt to claim the old magic? Since he isn't of Gryffindor lineage, the magic would reject his claim and kill him most violently.

Dumbledore smiled in satisfaction. Once he claimed the Gryffindor magic for himself, Dumbledore's are a minor offshoot of the great noble house, he would use the magic to create a utopia. A utopia that worshiped the ground he walked on. He would be a kind and benevolent king. Where people would bow to his every whim and do anything and everything to keep him happy.

The Potter family could make a more direct claim while being the main family. Potters are the direct descendants of Godric Gryffindor and Rowena Ravenclaw.

But he had hidden the knowledge from the Potters, he didn't need pawns far stronger then him. Whatever came out of this, he would be better off. Even if the Potters did survive, he could use them as canon fodder for the war.

As an Auror, Potter is a quick-thinking and dedicated man, he could be easily led to his death by sending him on missions that would easily break a lesser man. As an unspeakable, Potter is quiet brilliant. Albus knew that leading the fire-haired woman to her death would be to be planned out carefully.

Or did he kill off the Potters, who had been major problems for him and poor innocent Harry Potter? Walking through the door, Albus stepped over the still and lifeless form of James Potter, wand clenched in his hand. Hazel eyes still staring, shock and horror in those expressive eyes.

Kneeling, Albus removed the wand from the dead man's grip. He needed people to believe that the Potter's trusted him. He wandlessly erased all the spells that Potter had cast. Wiping the wand clean and lying it down on the table.

If Dumbledore would of turned at that moment, he would of seen the soul of James Potter leave the now dead body. Dressed in golden armor, a quiver of arrows peeked over his shoulder. A longbow hung off his shoulder. From over his back, crossed swords would be seen and two swords hung off his hip. The normally short messy hair fell in long waves down his back, two pointed ears peeked out from behind the curtain of curls. A long hard look at the headmaster, then James Potter turned towards the faintly glowing elf that beckoned him through the portal.

Unbeknownst the venerable Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, a group of Phoenixia, beings that are half human and half-Phoenix. Beings that have all the powers of a phoenix, wings included. Practically immortal, the Phoenixias were immune to all known curses and hexes.

The tallest immortal being glanced at the group of hatchlings clustered around him. They all had felt the killing curse being used, the death of two and the survival of the third. Watching the house, the Phoenixia named Zeus made plans and waited.

Moving up the steps, they groaned ominously under his weight. Albus knew casting a strengthening spell would push it, no one needed to know that he had been here and then they might question why he couldn't of saved the young family.

Pushing the nursery door open, his gaze fell on the two very dead bodies. The dark haired Riddle, Yew wand clenched in his grip, a look of utter shock and surprise on his frozen face. Lying at the edge of the cradle, looking as if she was just asleep, Lily Potter laid oh so still, wand lying on her chest, still clutched in her grip. Dumbledore heard a soft whimper, his gaze shot towards the cradle.

Standing on unsteady legs, blood racing down his face, young Harry Potter cried out "Mama!" In a quiet shocking display of magic, the young fifteen month old Apparated out of cradle, right into the slack embrace of his mother. Albus inhaled softly, the boy reeked of magic. The Gryffindor magic had protected him from the dark lord's wrath and killing curse and imbued the young tot with ancient and powerful magic. Dumbledore scowled, he couldn't have that. He needed a pliable and magically weak martyr, not a trained mage.

His plans revolved on having a weak, malleable and loyal weapon that would do his bidding. He also needed a friend that his weapon would turn to. And he knew where he could find a perfect person. A light-oriented family that would have no qualms in taking in a needy savior. And would write up a contract with them between Harry and their youngest daughter.

Listening to the soft creak of footsteps on the walk "James? Oh lord Jamsie!" Hearing the muffle cry from Sirius Black, Dumbledore made up his plan. Whipping the cloak off, folding it up and placing it in a pocket. Before casting a charm to make everyone see Hagrid instead of him. Scooping up the young child, Dumbledore moved down the steps.

"Hagrid? Is Lily... oh god. Lily!" Tears racing down his face, Sirius Black reaching for the child in his arms, gray eyes brimming with pain, and determination. Drawing back, Dumbledore murmured "Albus will know what to do."

"He's my godson!" Black rasped angrily, "I swore to James and Lily I'd take care of Harry! Their wills state I am to be his guardian."

Dumbledore slowly moved his wand, placed him under a compulsion spell to go and find Peter Pettigrew. Watching as Black Apparated off, he smirked. Now to get the real Hagrid to get the blasted boy to those disgustingly normal Dursley's.

He knew of the magic hating Dursley's and what better place to place a powerful wizard who would be beaten for his talents. A nasty smile crossed his face. Come eleven years from now and he would be looking at a weaken mage, someone to control and manipulated into confrontations with the dark lord.

Meeting up with Professor McGonagall, they chatted softly. Until McGonagall asked why they were here.

"I've come to bring Harry to his aunt and uncle. They're the only family he has left now."* Dumbledore explained, pleased with himself. He knew that the Dursley's hated magic, hated the Potters.

"You can't mean here! Are you off the rocker Albus Dumbledore, these Muggles wouldn't raise Harry properly. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And their son, I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here!"

"It is for the Greater good," Dumbledore stated in a self-important tone of voice, puffing his chest out "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."

"A Letter?!" McGonagall shrieked in shock before sitting down on the fence, shock plastered on her face. "A letter, how would you explain to them, that this boy you are apparently abandoning on their porch, is the savior of the wizarding world? How will Harry cope with the fact when he receives his letter, he is famous for something his mother did before she died. There will be books written about him! People will know his name!"

"I know, I do not want the child growing up knowing of his fame. He will turn out exactly like the Malfoy's."

As they fell silent for several minutes, Dumbledore thinking of all the things he had to do. Once he is alone with the child, he would cast magical suppressors, limiters on his magic. He didn't need the boy freaking out his Muggle relatives.

"So where is Harry?" McGonagall finally asked, looking at him askance, as if he had little Harry hidden in one of his pockets.

"Hagrid's bringing him."*

"You think it wise to trust Hagrid with something as important as this?"*

"I would trust Hagrid with my life," said Dumbledore.*

As a rumbling sound filled the air, a massive motorcycle landed. As the huge giant of a man stepped off, cradling something in his arms gently.

Once alone with the young boy, Albus began casting the necessary charms, magical blocks, suppressors. Capping his magic at thirty percent, he would be below an average wizard his age. He also cast hexes that would make the Muggles despise the child.

He laid the child back down with the letter. Walking off, he Apparated away with nary a sound.

A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very last place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Harry Potter rolled over inside his blankets without waking up. One small hand closed on the letter beside him and he slept on, not knowing he was special, not knowing he was famous, not knowing he would be woken in a few hours' time by Mrs. Dursley's scream as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottles, nor that he would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by his cousin Dudley... He couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: "To Harry Potter—the boy who lived!"*

End of Pensieve memory.

Backing out of the marble basin, the fourteen year old stared down at the innocent looking basin with wide betrayed eyes. With the shaggy black hair and bright green eyes, this young man is the boy from the Pensieve. Ignoring for the moment, the soft comforting voices coming from the paintings, Harry Potter sat down in the chair. Once he regained his composure, he glanced up to the paintings.

Noting the kind looks, the compassionate faces. He rubbed his eyes, pushing aside the glasses for a moment. Swiping at his watery eyes, but he refused to let the tears fall.

He had been wandering the halls, having no friends that wanted to stand with him during these troubling times when his name was called from the Goblet. Only one person believed him and that was Cedric. The Hufflepuff promised to talk to the other champions and his own house. At least someone believed him that he did not put his name in the blasted goblet.

He had been wandering when a painting directed him to the empty headmaster office. And when he saw the Pensieve, it was as if someone placed him under a spell to look inside. That's when he realized his life is being manipulated.

"Why?" He asked in a broken tone. One of the former headmaster, Phineas Black said softly "during Voldemort's reign of terror, people looked to Dumbledore because he had fought and defeated an even darker wizard by the name of Gellert Grindwald. People saw him as a beacon of light, someone to place their trust in. His over-inflated ego needs to be popped. And who better then the young man he so cruelly pitted against the worst sort of Mundanes ever to live."

"Mundanes?" Harry asked, feeling the comforting weight of Fawkes on his shoulder. Trilling softly and gently in his ear. His weight, warm and heavy against the shoulder. Phineas nodded. "Yes Mundanes. Have you ever wondered who came up with that appallingly racist word? It is Albus too bloody many names Dumbledore. He wanted people to flock to him."

Scratching Fawkes behind the head, Harry asked "I thought Phoenix's only bonded to light wizards?"