So, I was reading the great fanfic, Shinji and Warhammer40k when I got the idea for this. At first, this was going to be a short story that would mirror Shinji and Warhammer40k in how the figurines and Warhammer stuff affects the world, but then I started writing and things went into an entirely different direction in regards to how Warhammer is handled.

Its my first fanfic. And with that, here it is!

And don't forget to check out Shinji and Warhammer40k because that is a piece of art and one of the only fanfics I have ever read so much on. Even if you haven't heard of Warhammer, go read that fanfic! =)

Hagrid was….is…a big, big, man. He searched the wreckage of the home of Lily and James Potter, and resisted the strong urge to break down crying. How could this have happened to such nice people? It was over, but their lost, for the moments, overshadowed the joy from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's death.

Then there was a baby crying. In a broken cradle, laid the boy who "killed" Him, it was the Boy Who Lived. Barely a year old, and he somehow managed to take down the most powerful wizard on the planet. Hagrid took three steps over to him until something caught his foot, causing him to stumble. He adjusted just in time to avoid falling to the ground. When he turned back around and looked at what he tripped over, he was clearly angry.

It was a metal suitcase. Duct tape ran across the side of it and in huge black letters were the words, WARHAMMER 40,000: ROGUE TRADER.

"Hmm….never heard of it," Hagrid said to himself. He tucked under his arm and walked over to the cradle. The baby had some hair, his green eyes were made apparent once he stopped crying. As soon as he saw Hagrid, he settled and stared at the huge man.

"Don't be 'fraid, kid!" Hagrid looked into the baby's bloodshot eyes; they weren't looking at him. They were looked at the suitcase. He held out his hands, as if asking for the suitcase.

"Nah, this weighs a bit too much for you," Hagrid said. The baby started crying again. Hagrid looked at his pocket watch; he's been here too long already. He snatched up the kid into his massive arm and dropped the suitcase in the cradle. Halfway to the motorcycle, the baby was throwing the largest fit Hagrid's ever seen. He was slamming his tiny fists into Hagrid's massive stomach, hard enough that even Hagrid notice the force behind it.

"Fine!" Hagrid took two giant steps back to the cradle, quickly snatched up the suitcase, and was back to the motorcycle in no time. No more time to be hanging around, the muggles would show up any time now.

Hagrid revved the motorcycle and soon, it was floating in the air, and then roaring into the night sky.

Half Hour Later

The streets were bathed in artificial darkness caused by one man's "Puter-Outer". Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall were having such a pleasant conversation until they heard the low, rumbling sound that broke the night silence. They looked to the end of the street for signs of headlights, nothing. Then they looked up to see the largest motorcycle anyone's ever really seen. It fell from the sky and landed with a crash in the street.

Not one person in their house stirred. More than likely, even if the neighborhood was awake, only McGonagall and Dumbledore would've probably have heard the magically-enhanced motorcycle.

Dumbledore was relieved, "Hagrid, where did you get the motorcycle?"

"Borrowed it from that nice guy, Sirius Black."

"No problems, were there?"

"No sir. The house was mostly destroyed. The cradle was broken, but it held quite nicely. It's like there was a bubble around the kid or something. Anyway, I got out of there before the Muggles started to swarm the pace. He fell asleep as I flew over Bristol."

The Professors bent to get a closer view of the boy. It was a baby boy, no older than one year of age, fast asleep in the comfort of his blankets and Hagrid's large arm. Under his black hair, visible as day on his forehead, was a scar the shape of a bolt of lightning.

"What is that?" McGonagall asked.

"A scar of course."

McGonagall frowned, "Can't you do something about it?"

"No. And if I could, I wouldn't. It may actually be useful," Dumbledore continued," I have one that is a perfect map of the London Underground," his smile subsided as he became serious," Well Hagrid, let's get this over with. Hand the boy to me."

Hagrid handed Harry over to Dumbledore and he turned to face the Dursley's Home.

"Could I say good-bye to him, sir?" Hagrid asked. He leaned over and kissed the boy on the forehead and pulled out just before his beard shaggy beard would disturb his sleep. Then he let out a powerful howl as if wounded.

"Shut up!" McGonagall hissed, "You'll wake everyone in this neighborhood up!"

"S-s-sorry! But I can't stand it! Lily and James are dead and the boy has to live with Muggles-"

"Yes, yes, it's all sad but get a hold of yourself or we'll be caught. And how will it look to these people to see an old man with a beard in his belt and a man the size of a garage?" She asked while patting him on the back, "It's for the best."

Dumbledore walked to the front door and laid the baby wrapped in blankets on the front step. He pulled a letter from his cloak and tucked into the boy's blankets. For a few minutes, the three just stood there and looked at the boy sleeping on the step. He was so tiny compared to the giant man who brought him here, and to the tall man who could possibly hide the baby in his beard.

"Well, that's that. No reason to stick around here anymore. May as well go ahead and join the celebrations."

"Yess….I'll be taking Sirius's bike back. G'night Professors." Hagrid pulled a dirty handkerchief out of his pocket and wiped his eyes. He swung himself back on the motorcycle and was just about to take off when he remembered something. He reached his giant arm back to a compartment on the back side of the bike and pulled out the suitcase.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Hagrid said, climbing off the bike in a hurry, "Here, this was the only thing that wasn't destroyed!"

"Hmm…." Dumbledore said as he read the tape on the suitcase. He opened up the suitcase, "It's a board game?"

"Yeah, but its not like Wizard's Chess at all! Feel how damn heavy that thing is?"

Dumbledore quickly skimmed the codex and many reading materials that came with the suitcase. This took a few minutes. McGonagall tapped her foot slowly in the background. "Well….I don't know what to make of it, but there's something….strange about it." He flipped to the final page of one of the booklets, in big black letters was written PROPERTY OF JAMES POTTER.

"But its James's….why not give it to his son?" Dumbledore finally said. "Minerva, if the cousin is as bad as you say, then I'm going to have to make sure this final possession isn't taken away. Dumbledore pulled out his wand, muttered a few words, and a blue light emerged from the end of the wand and spread across the surface of the suitcase.

He brought the suitcase over to the doorstep and left it beside Harry. With another spell from his wand, he changed the wording slightly in the letter without even having to open it.

"Well," Dumbledore started, "Its time for us to get to those aforementioned celebrations I was talking about!"

"Yeah…see you two later," Hagrid said. He swung his leg back over the bike. The bike roared back to life and rose rapidly into the air and shot off.

"I shall see you soon as well, Professor McGonagall."

"Yes…yes of course," she replied. She muffled a yawn and walked away. Dumbledore pulled out a silver lighter and with one click, twelve balls of light sped to twelve different street lights, causing Privet Drive to glow orange. Dumbledore can make out the image of a tabby cat slinking around the corner at the other end of the street.

There he stood, alone in the street. He saw no reason to stay any longer and with one more good-bye, vanished in thin air. Harry Potter rolled in his blankets. He didn't know he was special, that he was famous, and that he was going to woken up by his aunt's scream as she opened the front door to put out milk bottles. He didn't know that his cousin would be a complete jerk to him for the next several years. And he especially didn't know that all over the country, there were people holding up glasses and celebrating his name.

To Harry Potter—the boy who lived!

HARRY POTTER AND WARHAMMER40K

By August Akuma

Over Nine Years Later

"Wake up!" Aunt Petunia shouted as she rasped her knuckles against Harry's door. Truth be told, he was already awake. Last night, he had a strange dream about a flying motorcycle. It was the strangest dream. She shouted once more, "Wake up! Watch the bacon and make sure it doesn't burn. I want my little Dudley's birthday to be perfect!"

"I'm coming!" Harry responded. Usually, he didn't have a problem with people randomly banging on his door. It never shook him until now. Maybe it was the dream. Harry got up and quickly got dressed (not much to really choose from in his "wardrobe", a trash bag in the corner of the cupboard).

That metal suitcase was strange. There was a strip of tape with writing but Uncle Vernon ripped that off a long time ago. That was Harry's oldest memories, Uncle Vernon trying everything to open the suitcase. Nothing could get it open. A hammer didn't even dent the surface. He gave up on it five years ago, and since then, it's been in the corner of Harry's cupboard. Harry himself has tried to open it, to no avail.

Stifling a yawn, Harry emerged from the cupboard, turning the single light bulb off. Most of the table and counter surface in the dining room and kitchen was taken by gifts of various sizes. It looks like Dudley got his PC, bicycle (Harry grinned at the thought of that fat ass riding it anywhere), VCR, and a new television. In other words, everything the perfect lazy slob "needs".

Harry finished serving breakfast, just in time for Dudley to come in. He wore a stupid grin that went well with his somewhat toupee-looking short blonde hair and pink face. Dudley was big, in a round way. As Harry ate some bacon, he watched the boy count the presents, whom had started over several times as he completely and utterly forgot where he was. This went on for a minute, and Harry was hopeful that he gets it this time since the last time he started over, the boy was at thirty-one.

And then Uncle Vernon walked into the room, looked at Harry just as Dudley reached twenty-seven, and greeted Harry the same way he does every morning, "Comb your hair, boy!" Dudley swore vehemently as he lost track again and Vernon smacked up upside he head, sat down, opened the newspaper, and sipped on tea.

Finally, Dudley finished. There was something odd about his face, as if he ate a sour lemon whole. Aunt Petunia had jus entered the room when Dudley finally spoke quietly, "There's only thirty-six presents here…"

Vernon was puzzled, "So?"

Dudley's voice rose a little bit, "That's two less than last year."

Petunia corrected him, "You forgot your Aunt's present hear under the big one from mommy and daddy, sweetums."

His voice was a little louder than his "normal" voice, but not even close to yelling, "That's thirty-seven then!"

Harry quickly finished his plate as he saw where this was going. Knowing Dudley, if Harry took too long to finish his meal when Dudley went into a meltdown, the table would be flipped atop of him. Petunia sensed the tantrum coming as well, and quickly mentioned, "And while we're out today, we'll get you two presents. Wouldn't that be fun?"

"Ok," he said, "So, that'll be thirty….thirty…."

"Nine," Petunia finished.

Vernon chuckled, "The boy wants his money worth like his father! Good boy, son!"

Harry sighed and prayed no one noticed. It got sadder every year. The telephone rang and Petunia left the room to answer it. Meanwhile, Dudley opened all his presents, not even slowing down to actually look at them first. Ask him about the last present he opened and he would probably have asked, "Which one now?"

When Petunia came back in the room, it too, looked like she took a bite off the same sour lemon Dudley had earlier when he didn't get enough presents, "Bad news. Mrs. Figg broke her leg and can't watch him," she jerked her head at my direction, "today."

Dudley's mouth dropped while Harry's formed a grin. Every single year, Harry's guardians would take Dudley somewhere fun on the fat jerk's birthday and leave Harry to be watched by the "crazy cat lady" whose house smelled awful.

"Now what?" she asked.

"We could call Marge," Vernon suggested.

"Nonsense, she hates the boy."

"I'm still here guys…." Harry said. Vernon glanced at him and continued on like nothing was said.

"What about you friend?

"She's on vacation out of country."

"You guys could just leave me here."

"And come back to find my house in ruins?" Petunia snapped.

Harry was going to say he wouldn't blow up the house, but something pulled at him, and it came at like this instead, "Yes. I plan on ruining your home while you were gone. Not only that, but tonight, I planned on sneaking into people's houses and wrecking up the place as well."

"WHAT DID YOU SAY!?"

"Nothing?" Harry replied. What did he just say?

Petunia blinked a few times, Harry's never snapped back like that. "Umm….we could just leave him in the car."

"That car's new! I'm not leaving him alone in it."

Again, Harry found himself saying something else that would result in stricter food rations for the night, "Geez Uncle Vernon. Thank you for the vote of confidence."

Vernon's face turned beat red and was about to get up to smack Harry when Dudley started crying. "He's….he's….r-r-ruining my birthday!"

Petunia quickly rushed to her boy's side and hugged him, "Oh sweetums, I'm not going to let the mean old boy ruin your birthday!"

"I-I-I don't want him to come!" Dudley was bawling at this point. Not that he was really crying. Harry hadn't seen the boy really cry in years. Of course, crying is a sure-fire way of getting whatever you want when you're already spoiled. The doorbell rang.

"Oh, they're here already!" Petunia went to the front door and came back into the kitchen moments later with Dudley's friend, Piers Polkiss behind her. Dudley had cut the act way before she even opened the door. Piers was Dudley's friend. A scrawny kid himself, his job was to pull the victim's arms behind their back while Dudley wailed on him.

A half-hour later and Harry still couldn't believe his luck. Instead of arguing in front of Piers, the Dursley's (except Dudley that is) agreed to just take Harry along with them. He sat in the back with Dudley and Piers (both of whom were having fun punching Harry in the shoulder when the parents weren't paying any attention, not that they were actively going to stop it if they did see it.

A motorcycle shot past the car and Uncle Vernon went on one of his trademark tirades, "Hoodlums! Driving around the city and other people's cars, thinking they owned the place!"

"I had a dream about a motorcycle. It flew." Harry immediately wished he hadn't say anything as Uncle Vernon slammed on the brakes.

"MOTORCYCLES DO NOT FLY!" He yelled. Piers and Dudley snickered at Harry and Harry turned to face the window.

"I know they don't," Harry said still facing out the window, "It was only a dream."

It was Saturday at the zoo, and the place swelled with dozens of families; three groups of students from different schools, and other assorted groups you would think go to a zoo on a Saturday for fun. The Dursley's brought their son and his friend a chocolate ice cream. Luckily, the woman who gave the two their ice cream asked if Harry wanted something before Vernon had pushed him along. He ended up with the cheapest one, a lemon ice pop.

He didn't complain; it had tasted good. The rest of the day went something like that. Later in the day, Dudley complained about an ice cream his parents had just bought him (again) and Harry ended up getting to finish it instead. What was wrong with the ice cream? It was too small.

Then there was the Reptile House. Dudley and Piers were near yelling at the sleeping boa constrictor to move. The boa constrictor, looking as if it could crush a car with its body, just slept on, ignoring the riff-raff.

"Get it to move, Dad!" Dudley ordered his father. Vernon tapped on the glass several times and when the boa didn't move, the three moved on to the next exhibit. Harry felt bad for the boa constrictor. Unlike Harry, the boa constrictor was trapped behind a glass for the world to amuse over it. Every day, every hour, someone was tapping the glass, trying to get it to perform tricks.

Harry watched it sleep; amazed by the sheer power it looked like it possessed. And then its head rose, it looked at Harry and winked. The constrictor jerked its head to the direction that the three intruders had wandered off to and rolled its eyes as if to say, "I get this all the time."

"I know. Trust me, he's an annoying one. Him and his friend." Harry murmured.

Harry couldn't understand why, but it sounded like the snake was responding to him, "Which one are you related to then?"

"The fat one."

"Sorry."

Harry chuckled silently. He looked around to make sure no one was listening in before continuing, "So, where are you from?" The constrictor jerked its head to a sign: BRAZIL. "Was it nice there?" Harry asked.

"Keep reading friend."

Harry read the small print under the word Brazil: Bred in Captivity.

"I'm sorry."

"DADDY, LOOK AT WHAT'S IT DOING NOW!" Dudley slammed against Harry, hitting him in the ribs and knocking him to the ground. Piers and Dudley were pressed up against the glass to get a closer look. Harry was angry at the two, and then it happened. The glass disappeared. Piers remained upright, but Dudley wasn't as lucky and fell into through.

The constrictor slithered past Dudley, past the "window mark", snapped at Vernon's feet, and left. "Later, friend." The snake said.

For the next half-hour it took to get home, it was nothing but Piers and Dudley crying and whining about how the constrictor was so close to killing them.

"He almost poisoned me!" Piers said.

"Oh yeah, he almost crushed me!" Dudley would shoot back.

Once they were home, and Piers went home, Vernon turned to Harry. His face was flushed with anger, "GO-CUPBOARD-NOW!"

The fifteen minutes after that was just Harry, in his cupboard, trying to get a word edge-wise while Vernon yelled at him, "AND YOU'RE NOT COMING OUT OF THERE UNTIL THE SUMMER!"

The sun was already setting when they arrived home. When Harry started to think it was dark, and that the Dursley's were already asleep. At first, he planned on leaving and sneaking food, but decided against it.

"I didn't do anything…" Harry muttered to the darkness over and over again. He turned the light off so that the Dursley's didn't think he was still awake.

"Not on purpose that is." A voice in the darkness seemed to replied.

"What does that mean?" Harry asked. No answer.

Duh, of course I'm not going to get an answer, I'm hearing things. But when he heard a distinctive click, he started to wonder. He pulled on a cord and turned on the light bulb. The suitcase was open. Harry stared at it for five minutes before he moved to drag it over to him. There was a pocket watch in it; it was exactly midnight, ten seconds ago.

Harry picked up some figurines. One of Imperial Space Marine, and another of a Chaos Space Marine. And then he saw the Codex. As Harry pulled them out, he noticed how incredibly new they looked. And then he reached the one on the bottom. It was laid at the bottom, defiantly in the knowledge of how old it looked compare to the others. Harry leafed through that one quickly. He didn't feel like reading until he got to the last page. In huge black letters were the words: Property of James Potter.

Harry grabbed the others and quickly went to the back, no name, but there was something strange about the last one he went through. It was dated for 2004. Harry ignored it; maybe it was just a mistake. He grabbed the oldest one and began reading and then he picked up the next one, and the next one. There was a lot of reading.

Before he went to bed, he grabbed the two figurines that grabbed his attention early. The Chaos Space Marines and Imperial Space Marine, and placed them under his pillow. He had locked the suitcase and all its contents and hid it under his mattress.

It was the easiest sleep he had in years.