The Syndicate

By: BoltLightning (previously dragonstorm)

Disclaimer: J.K. Rowling created the original Harry Potter and its characters.

Synopsis: In Harry's fifth year, he is contacted by a mysterious organization. He disappears and comes back a year later with a new look and a new name. A lot happens in the span of time that he is gone, and both Dumbledore and Voldemort each think that the other has Harry secretly hidden away. Harry disappears and neither side realizes that the enemy does not hold him. The wizarding world lives on without it's hero, and most think that he is off somewhere training. If only Dumbledore or Voldemort realized how close to the truth the common people really were.

Chapter 1-Death

It was a bright and sunny day in the town of Little Surrey. Harry Potter sat alone in his room at Number Four Privet Drive. It had been only a week ago since he had arrived home for the summer from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and yet, the week seemed to be one of the worst ones in his life. Dumbledore, thinking that he was doing Harry a favor, had sent the Dursleys a letter by owl that told them about Voldemort's resurrection and how Harry was and would be number one on the snake's hit list until he was finally killed. The Dursley's ran far away from Privet Drive shortly after Vernon had brought him home from Kings Cross train station; they were probably somewhere in South America right now on "vacation". They had left Harry alone in the house, which would have normally been a blessing if it weren't for the fact that he had no way to contact his friends. Hedwig was going to stay with Hermione over the summer (he was afraid that Uncle Vernon would kill her if she didn't keep quiet), and his two best friends were told not to call him on the phone or send him any owls for fear that his location would be given away.

Harry became as bored as one can get. The TV was broken so that it stayed on one channel and there are only so many times that you can watch I Love Lucy before you begin to lose your mind. This was slowly driving him over the edge, but the real kicker was the nightmares that he had been having. He hadn't had a decent nights sleep since the night of the third task, and he kept on seeing deaths so gruesome that he had to force himself to eat. This was when he came to his decision, one that would change his life forever, and hopefully for the better.

'Harry Potter is weak.' He thought to himself as he sat with his head on the kitchen table. 'As long as I hold the name of Harry Potter I will be weak because of it. I can't go on like this. All of this pressure and the fact that I am being babied by the whole world are finally catching up to me. There has to be a way to get out. I know I will run away. Yeah, I'll just run away. I can't stay in this world any longer, so if that means that I will have to go to the muggle world to have the freedom that everyone else takes for granted, then so be it. I will need a new name for myself. Yes, yes, a new name, yes.'

Harry came up with a name that no one would ever think of him to possess, Vicious. He took some of the things in his uncle's house and pawned them off. After all, he was supposed to be a no good trouble-making wizard. A new wardrobe was now his, and it suited his name. Most of the clothes were black and silver, plus they held that dark appearance. He went to a muggle tattoo artist and had a large silver lightning bolt tattooed over the lightning bolt scar that went down the middle of his forehead. This almost completely hid it from view, unless one was to look very close at it. He wore his disguise to Diagon Alley, got some money out of his vault, and bought a potion that permanently made his hair silver and tamable, which he then proceeded to cut it short and have it spiked. His glasses were another fault that Harry Potter had, so he went to a magic eye doctor's office and had them permanently corrected so that he could see.

Vicious bought many different advanced magical books, and even made a trip down Knockturn Alley to acquire something that would hide his magical signature. It was highly illegal to own one of these, but he had to buy it so that he would not be found and the black muggle trench coat that he wore covered it up nicely, since it wrapped around the top of his bicep. With a pair of silver shades to complete the ensemble, he was a menacing sight indeed. Of course, he was still skinny, but his look frightened many.

Vicious couldn't help but laugh at the simpletons and the way that they parted so that he could walk through them. That is, until he noticed some stranger staring at him intently.

This stranger was dressed all in black, and blended well with the shadows. When Vicious walked past him on his way back out of Knockturn Alley, the man spoke to him in a whisper.

"It is not common to see another like myself. Evading the life of a commoner and wanting to become something better. With some training, you could become a powerful and ferocious force indeed. I invite you to join the Syndicate. It can be found in no book, but it will help you get what you want. You don't want fame you want power. We can help. Here is our card. I will tell you one other thing, we are neither good nor are we evil. We are killers, we are hunters, we are protectors. We don't want to take over the world; we want to mold it how we see fit. Tonight, at seven o'clock exactly, hold the card and say, "I'm in." Have all your things ready, for you will not return to the life that you used to hold."

With that said, the man disapperated without the customary popping sound. It was silent. Interesting indeed.

'Well,' Harry/Vicious thought to himself, 'I was planning on leaving this world anyway. Harry Potter is dead. . . for now. . . .'