Disclaimer:

I don't own Harry Potter or Eternal Darkness. If I did, I'd be filthy rich. As it is, I'm a humble freshman at college. Sucks to be me, but ah well. On with the story!

Prologue – Finding the Tome

Number Four, Privit Lane

The first sound the young boy heard was, of course, his uncle's shouting. It seemed to the youth that his uncle could only speak in three tones: shouting, threatening him, or being sickly sweet to the boy's cousin. As it was, he was yelling, and that meant his uncle was talking to his aunt again, probably about him like always. The young boy pulled his ragged grey shirt on and slipped his taped together glasses on. As silently as he could, the boy crept over to the door of his little cupboard and placed his ear against the wood.

"I DON'T CARE IF HE'S YOUR ONLY CONNECTION TO YOUR SISTER! I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF HIS FREAK ACTIONS! EITHER HE LEAVES, OR I DO!" Hidden in his cupboard, the boy froze. For as long as he could remember, he had been a spot of anger between his aunt and uncle. The man would constantly rant about 'freak' things that the boy did, when often the boy had no idea what was going on. His aunt would always do her best to placate the man.

This particular turn of conversation had only come up once before though. The boy didn't remember what had happened before it, but whatever it was had angered his uncle so greatly that the man had nearly struck his wife while he was yelling at her. That had the result of the boy being removed from the house by his crying aunt, who kept apologizing for it through her tears.

The boy had lived on the streets of the town for half a year after that. He had learned how to scavenge for his food from dumpster bins, how to snatch clothes from the charity homes that he spent the occasional night in, and how to fight with whatever he could get his hands on. His green eyes had seen some of the nastier things that humanity had to offer – women offering themselves for scraps of food, or drugs, or worse to the boy, men offering their women for food or drugs. The worst incident that the young boy could remember was watching a man get stabbed by a woman he had bought with a bright coin, as he himself shivered under a pile of rags in the back of the alley.

That dark time had ended when the police found him as he dug for food in a garbage pail. He had found out that not even days after he had been removed from the home, his aunt had gone to the police with a slightly edited story of what had happened. He didn't know what the officers said to his uncle, but for a month after he was returned to Number Four Privit Lane, his uncle didn't shout or threaten him once.

Now, hearing those feared and hated words from his uncle again, the boy cowered in fear for only half a moment before running to pack a knapsack he had found in the lost and found at school with all of the clothes he had. He wanted to be as ready as he could be when he was put on the streets this time. The boy turned back to the door and crouched against it once more, listening for what he knew was coming next.

"Fine then. Get out." There was stunned silence on both sides of the door at the woman's words.

"Wha?" The uncle was obviously confused. The boy listened from his cupboard, not daring to believe what he was hearing. He pressed himself against the door harder, not wanting to miss a single word that was said.

"You heard me. I let you frighten me in to putting him out of his home last time, but that isn't going to happen this time. If it's either you or him leaving, pack your bags and leave." Outside of the doorway, the woman stood, her arms crossed as she glared at her husband. The man was doing a reasonable impersonation of a fish, his mouth hanging open, and closing halfway feebly before dropping open again. Suddenly the shock vanished, replaced by a calculating anger.

"You can't do without me woman. You forget who pays for this house, and the food that you eat." He sneered. "So get rid of the freak unless you want to lose your home too."

"Wrong. I can do without you. My old job has offered to let me work several times, but I've always turned them down because you wanted a stay at home wife." A calculating look of her own crossed the woman's face. "On second thought, there isn't a choice now. Get out of my house Dursely. You might pay for it, but we signed it in to my name. Go live with your whale of a sister, I'm not putting up with you or her any more. I'll be filing for a divorce later today or tomorrow." In his room, the boy now sat on the floor, staring at the door in shock and disbelief. He hurriedly scooted back to the door, straining to hear what was being said. There was nothing to hear though, except for a shriek of rage, a fleshy thump followed by a second thump, then the sound of footsteps thudding up the stairs then slamming around upstairs above the boy's head. There was more silence for several minutes, before the sound of footsteps came from the stairs once more.

"No!"

"Momma?"

"Don't even try woman. I already packed a bag for him, I'm taking him with me." The woman outside the door gave a strangled sob, mirrored by the third voice, the youngest. The boy within the small space could hear a light smack of flesh against flesh. "Out the door boy. She's picked the freak instead of me, and you're the cost of that choice." The boy pressed against the door stiffened angrily. He began jiggling the door handle frantically, muttering at it to open..

"Come on come on com'on open open open…" Despite his best efforts though, the door was locked from outside, leaving him without the ability to get out and stop what was happening. The young male gave one last desperate tug, and nearly fell backwards when the door to the cupboard flew open. The black haired boy leapt over his aunt, who had fallen into the cupboard when the door opened, his face contorted in a rictus of fury. He barreled forwards, making his uncle think the youth was aiming for him.

At the last moment, the boy from the cupboard turned enough to slam into the boy that had been brought down the stairs, shoving him away from the older man. The second boy lay on the ground for no more than a second before scrambling towards his mother. The uncle turned to where the black haired boy was, his face purple with anger.

"Stupid freak!" He brought one massive ham-hand up to his shoulder, intent on smashing into the young boy's face. The boy threw his hands up in front of him in panic, not noticing as one of his hands brushed against his uncle's shirt.

"G-WAY!" The boy screamed at his uncle. His eyes clenched shut tightly, expecting the hand to crash into him any second. When moments passed and nothing happened, one green eye cracked open to look around. The small entryway showed no sign of the brutish man who had been there mere seconds before. The boy's aunt had pulled herself into a sitting position against the wall next to his cupboard, and his cousin had buried his face in his mother's hair crying. The massive man was nowhere to be seen.

The boy's aunt stared in shock at the spot where her husband had been moments before. When it became apparent that he truly was no longer there, she began laughing, a broken, shaky laugh. The boy from within the cupboard collapsed to the ground, drained for some reason that he didn't know or understand. It was at this tableau; a woman laughing and crying, a young boy sitting against her, and another staring at the floor just meters away; that the doorbell rang. The young black haired boy shot up to his feet and staggered to the door, casting a glance back towards his aunt who nodded her head as she wiped her cheeks dry.

When the door opened, the boy saw two men in strange clothing standing there. One was a tall dark-skinned man wearing a hat that was even stranger than his robes, while the other was an old, old man who had eyes that seemed to twinkle at the young boy from behind his half moon glasses.

"Hello there young man, may we come in?" The old man spoke gently, as if he could tell that the boy was already edgy and nervous. A second glance back at his aunt for confirmation, which she gave through her growing shock, and the young black haired boy scooted out of the doorway, letting the two men into the room.

The dark skinned man immediately took out a small stick and began waving it around the room, muttering incomprehensible syllables under his breath. The old man helped the boy's aunt to her feet and patted the boy's cousin on the head, an action that for some reason calmed the crying boy.

"Albus. Got a positive here." The boy from the closet focused his attention on the dark skinned man with the incredibly deep voice. The man had stopped, a faint blue glow emanating near his hand, which was near where the boy's uncle had been standing before he vanished. The old man nodded to his compatriot, then looked at the boy's aunt.

"May we speak to you and the boy?" The aunt nodded, her face settling down. She knelt and wrapped her arms around her son.

"I need you to go up and play in your room for now baby." The boy seemed confused for a moment, then his face cleared and he nodded before shooting up the stairs, pausing at the top of the steps to look back curiously at the group that was now moving in to the living room. He shrugged then, deciding the game his father had torn him from was more intriguing than the old man talking to the freak.

In the living room

The black haired boy sat down on the couch near his aunt, who put a protective arm around him. The older stranger sat down in the uncle's favorite chair after giving it a distasteful look. The dark skinned man stood behind the older man, his arms crossed across his chest with an impassive expression settled on his face. There was silence for a moment before the old man pulled a small bag from a pocket.

"Lemon drop anyone?" The twinkling eyes swept around the room, pausing on the other people, losing only a bit of their twinkle when the boy's aunt shook her head. That lost twinkle returned with reinforcements when the boy looked at his aunt with a confused, hopeful expression. The woman nodded once slightly.

"Please sir." The boy held out his hand timidly, and brightened when the old man pulled one of the sour treats from the small bag and dropped it into his hand.

"Kingsley?"

"No thank you Albus." The old man's expression didn't change this time, as if he hadn't expected his companion to take one. He took one of the candies for himself then sat in silence for a moment. Finally he looked up at the two people who were sitting across from him. The boy fidgeted under his gaze, then nearly scrambled over the back of the couch when the twinkle vanished completely.

"Who did that to you?" The old man's gaze was locked on the boy's aunt. The young child turned to see what had upset the stranger, and gasped when he saw an angry red bruise forming along the side of his aunt's face. Instead of answering the question, the woman looked down at her lap.

"I see. Young one, can you tell me what happened just before my friend and I arrived?" The twinkle had returned, but it was incredibly soft compared to how it had been before. The boy twitched slightly, his eyes avoiding the older man's, until he finally crumpled in on himself. With a look to his aunt, who seemed oblivious now, he started speaking.

"I…I woke up when I heard my uncle shouted outside my door…" An encouraging gesture from the white haired man prompted him further. "He..he told my aunt that it was down to him or me…I missed some of what they said because I remembered what happened last time he said that and I went to get ready to leave." The old man's twinkle vanished again as the boy's aunt deflated slightly as he spoke. Seeing his aunt get sadder, the boy rushed to keep talking. "But my aunt told him that he was the one who would have to leave, not me! I…I think that was when uncle hit her…" Both of the strangers tensed. "Uncle went upstairs for a while, and came back down with my cousin. He told Aunt that he was taking my cousin with him when he left, and that he had already grabbed a bag. That wasn't right though, my cousin shouldn't have to suffer because Aunt didn't want to stay with Uncle any more…so I…I broke out of my cupboard and ran at him. Cousin got away and made it over to Aunt. Uncle was about to hit me when he suddenly …suddenly vanished."

The two men were quiet for a long moment, then the dark skinned man stepped forward and spoke into the older man's ear.

"It was a Portkey Albus. I don't know how he did it, but my money is on the boy. Is he…?" The older man nodded at the question that the other man didn't finish.

"Thank you Kingsley. I shall try to explain it to them as well as I can, though it is my opinion that the young lady already has a bit of an idea." The boy's aunt nodded once.

"He's like her isn't he? He's going to be like his mother and father after all, despite everything that pig did…"

"Yes. My boy, before this, have strange things ever happened around you?" The boy tilted his head thinking back across his past. Most memorable to him was an occurrence from when he was living on his own. He looked up at the old man and nodded.

"That my boy, was magic, just like what happened today was. Though it wasn't the same magic, the power behind it was the same. You are a wizard my boy, or you will be in a few years when you get training."

"Magic isn't real! Uncle made sure I knew that…" The boy grew agitated. The one lesson that had literally been beaten into him was that – magic wasn't real. For some reason, when the boy said that his aunt flinched.

"Not real? My boy, magic is as real as you are. Observe." The old man pulled out a small stick of his own, though this one was of a different kind of wood. "Wingardium Leviosa." The man pointed the end of the wand at the young boy and began flicking it upwards slightly. For a moment, the black haired boy didn't understand what was going on. Then he realized that he was now above his aunt's head. He panicked slightly, twisting and squirming, trying to get down from whatever it was that was holding him up. Despite his struggles, he remained floating in the air. "Finito." At the word from the old man, the boy dropped to the couch where he had been. As he sat there stunned, the old man smiled.

"Believe in magic now my boy?" For a long, long moment, the boy sat with his brow furrowed. Then, slowly and tentatively, he nodded. "Good. Now, you can't learn magic yet, you aren't yet eleven, and that is when magical schooling begins. Or at least, you can't learn the magic spells from my school. You will attend right?"

"Of course he will be. I owe them that much. It'll be a struggle to pay with the pig gone, but.."

"Oh never worry about that my dear. Your nephew's parents left him a sizable sum of money for schooling, enough to cover whatever he might need. Now then… do you have any idea where the boy might have sent his uncle?" The glasses wearing boy blinked and looked up. He had sent his uncle away? How? Then he remembered the twinkly eyed man's words – magic of a different kind than what he had experienced in the past. Though he didn't know those incidents were magic, what had happened today couldn't be anything but magic.

"No. He doesn't know many places…" The boy straightened up. He hadn't been thinking of any place when his uncle had vanished. Did that mean anything? The old man looked toward the boy when he sat upright. When the black haired child remained silent, the older man sighed and shook his head.

"Well then, we'll just have to wait and see where he shows up. I'll leave it to you to explain what he needs to know." The white haired old man stood up and bowed to the boy's aunt, then patted the boy on his head. "Grow up well my boy, I look forward to seeing you when you start school." He reached into another pocket and pulled out a small brown bag, similar to the one that he had taken the lemon drops from. He gestured to his companion, and the two strode to the fireplace. With a last benevolent smile towards the boy, the old man opened the bag as the dark skinned man pulled out his wand and lit the fireplace with a wave. From the bag came a strange powder that made the fire burn green instead of its normal red/orange hues. The two men moved into the fire, causing the boy to gasp in fear. Instead of burning, they disappeared suddenly, leaving the house as silent as it had been before they arrived. The fire returned to its normal colors before flickering and fading away. The boy's aunt pulled him into her arms and held him close.

And thus, at the tender age of eight, Harry Potter lost his uncle, and was introduced to the world of wizards in the same day.

Time Skip – Six months later, Surrey Public Library

"Come on Harry, we've been here dozens of times! Haven't you read all of the interesting books by now?" Harry, now age nine, grunted and shook his head at the question.

"Nope. With every book I read, more become interesting. And don't complain too much, it was because we kept coming here that you found that book you're always reading." Dudley merely scowled and turned away, unable to argue with that fact. "By the way, I think I saw another book from that series in the new arrivals bin, you might want to go check to see if it wasn't …" Even before the black haired boy could finish speaking, his cousin had raced off to the front of the library to look for himself. The glasses wearing boy chuckled and shook his head before turning his attention back to the shelves in front of him. As his eyes roamed the shelves, his thoughts wandered across all that had happened since his uncle had vanished.

Within a week of his uncle's mysterious disappearance, his aunt Petunia had taken her old company up on their offers of employment. Even now, Harry wasn't quite sure what it was that she did, all he knew was that it involved chemicals. Unfortunately, at about that same time, Mrs. Figg, the woman who Petunia wanted to have watch after the boys while she was at work, became ill from some strange sort of illness. Despite being sick, the woman had been happy, as if her disease proved something. While Harry couldn't figure it out, his aunt had nodded at the old woman's smile.

Still, without a nanny for when she was gone, Petunia had needed somewhere for the boys to go when they weren't in school. At first, they had just stuck around Little Whinging, mainly going to the park down the road. But one day, Harry had gotten the urge to wander the streets like he had done when living on his own. By that time, Dudley had fallen into the habit of following his cousin mainly for the sense of familiarity that the action brought. And so it was that the two ended up at the nearby public library.

For days Dudley had always complained whenever their paths brought them to the old building. He had no real interest in reading, being far more inclined to physical activities. Even so, he had stuck around to watch after his cousin, who would become so entranced in his books that he would forget the outside world existed. But not all of the books interested Harry, and it was one of these that caught Dudley's attention.

It wasn't anything special, just another martial arts how-to book. But the image on the front, of a martial artist posed in a fighting stance, hooked the physically oriented boy better than any gory videogame ever had. He immediately pestered Harry until the bookworm brought his attention to the real world long enough to check the book out for him. Since then, the two would come to the library every so often – Harry to find new books to read, Dudley to watch after Harry and to renew his loan of the martial arts book so the library wouldn't call home and alert his mother to the fact that they were wandering beyond the neighborhood.

Harry was snapped from his reminiscing by a strange feeling coming from behind one of the bookshelves. Half a year ago, he would have ignored the sensation and continued on, but after that day six months past, he knew of a whole different world that apparently existed right below his nose. He walked to the end of the row of books and turned, only to find himself face to face with a brick wall. Green eyes narrowing in confusion, he paced back along the bookshelf to the other end, trying to get around on that side. Once again, red brick halted his progress.

"What the bloody… This can't be the end of the library, I know I've been further than this. What is going on here?" The boy scratched his head in aggravation as he returned to where the strange sensation was the strongest. With a sigh, he plopped down to the ground and put his head in his hands, trying to figure out what was going on. His eyes snapped open wide when he felt a cold breeze lift his hair and blow across his forehead. Looking at the lowest shelf, Harry could see a dim outline of a gap on the other side of the books. Excitement now filling him, the boy began pulling the heavy tomes off of the shelf and stacking them beside him. When he had moved several books out of the way, he saw that the gap in the brick wall was large enough that he could crawl through it on his hands and knees.

With a glance around to make sure no one could see him, the inquisitive lad moved forward through the gap. Soon, he noticed a distinct slope downwards, making him realize that the gap in the wall was actually the opening of a tunnel.

Is this how wizards enter their hidden world? Or is it something else entirely? After several minutes of crawling, Harry felt the closeness around him pull back. By now, he was far enough from the light of the library that he could barely see. He perceived enough to see that the tunnel had opened up, giving him enough room to stand upright. Bracing one hand against the nearby wall, the boy did just that. He continued following the path, wondering if he should go back and get Dudley just in case. Mere moments after he had had that thought, he saw light a head. With renewed vigour, Harry quickened his pace.

The tunnel opened into a small rough-hewn room. Torches were placed on the three walls of the chamber, around two stone pedestals. On the first was a tablet with writing in what seemed to be multiple languages. Though he couldn't read them all, Harry could see Russian, Japanese, Chinese, Spanish, and more that he couldn't even put a name to. At the bottom of the tablet was one language that Harry could understand – English. He considered the message written there.

"Do you have the courage to see what lies on the other side of the Veil? Do you have the strength to face what hides behind the Veil?" It seemed to be a warning of some kind. Now believing that the Veil was how the Wizards referred to their separation of their world from the mundane world, Harry nodded to himself. He stepped past the first pedestal to look at the second.

It was a simple stone plinth, identical in shape to the first one. What rested on top of it was no stone tablet though. Instead, it was what seemed to be a book – a journal or diary it seemed to the boy, for on the front of the book was something that resembled a human face. Slowly, Harry reached out one hand and grasped the tome.

He brought the text closer to one of the torches and began flipping through the pages, trying to read it. Unfortunately, whatever language it was written in was one that wasn't even on the stone tablet nearby. After going over the pages multiple times, he growled and sped up the flipping, not even noticing when some of the ink began leaking and flowing away, as if melting from the pages. Slowly the ink dripped from the book as Harry grew more and more frustrated with his inability to read what was obviously a very important book, after all it wouldn't have been hidden away like this if it wasn't special.

The ink that had dripped from the pages began pooling on the ground by Harry's feet. After nearly a minute, Harry sighed and set the book back on the stone plinth. When he turned around, he fell to the ground in shock. The ink that had flowed from the book had formed into a small creature, that looked like an outline of a human being.

The creature was nearly as tall as Harry himself. Red and black lines of text – the same kind of writing that was in the book – seemed to be the creature's flesh. The symbols faded and flowed chaotically, giving the impression a body and form where there was none. One moment, red or black text would be in a spot, creating form and substance. The next, the symbols would have faded away, letting Harry see right through what had once been solid seeming substance. The creature gave a hollow, echoing shriek that sent a shiver down the boy's spine.

One hand, rather, one claw made of red and black text swung across, smashing into the boy's face and sending him to the floor. Years of growing up with an abusive uncle had increased the boy's pain tolerance. Instead of falling to the ground crying as he might have, he instead rolled to his feet and stared uncomprehendingly at the creature in front of him. It stumbled towards him, drawing back one text-arm to strike him again.

Harry ducked under the clumsy strike and punched the thing in its chest. He found out that even when text didn't give an outline, the creature still occupied the space. Another swipe forced the human boy to jump backwards, unfortunately sending him into the stone pedestal where the book had been resting. The impact sent the book to the ground, where, unknown to Harry, more text flowed from its pages. Instead of forming into more monsters like the one in front of the boy, the new text seemed to shimmer and fade away from sight altogether.

Harry circled around the pedestal, trying to keep the stone between himself and the creature. In a sudden burst of inspiration, he grabbed one of the torches from the wall and swung it at the text thing. The creature staggered back, hissing at the boy, trying to avoid the flames. In its haste to avoid the torch, it kicked the book on the ground, sending more ink flying from the pages, unnoticed to the combatants.

The black haired boy realized he would have to beat the strange monster, and fast. Swinging the torch around was wearing him out, fast. He lowered the torch, trying to trick the red and black creature into thinking he was already exhausted. It fell for the ploy, and rushed in, bringing one clawed hand up to cut into its victim. Burning wood shot up into the creature's chest, sending it stumbling backwards, its body already burning up. It staggered around, kicking the book again and again, sending ink shooting out of the book, ink that kept vanishing into thin air as soon as it hit the ground.

The boy finally noticed that the book had fallen to the ground. He shoved the torch at the creature, herding it off of the book. He scooped the tome up into one arm, and now found that he couldn't swing the torch well enough to beat the monster. Frantically the boy set the book back onto the stone pillar, only to freeze when he heard a groggy voice.

"What is going on here?" He turned around enough to look back down the tunnel. There was no one there. He kept one eye on the red and black creature as it finally put out the flames, though it was now limping and seemed to be injured. Harry couldn't figure out who had spoken.

"I asked you a question boy. What is going on here?" The voice wasn't groggy any more. It now seemed irritate. "Oh, that can wait. Look alive boy, I'll lend you my help. That thing… I remember it for some reason, and I don't like what I can remember. Boy! Look here, you need to pick me up again for me to help you!"

'Pick me up again'? I haven't picked up anyone, and I haven't picked up anything but the book and this torch…the…the book? Green eyes flitted to the stone pillar. The book that was there was no longer laying on its back cover. Instead it was up on one end, the face turned towards Harry.

"Do you want my help or not? Stop standing there gawking!" Looking back at the thing that just kept coming after him, Harry made his choice. He sprinted towards the book and scooped it up. "AHhahahaha! You made the right choice lad! Now foul shade! Feel the power of Grimoire Weiss, and feel fear sink into your dark construction! I am the mightiest tome of magic ever created! With a single word I can pierce your body as if you were a bug on display! And that word is…that word is….that…is.." Harry nearly dropped the torch in shock when the book floated out of his grasp. His jaw fell when the book, which had been acting high and mighty, suddenly ran out of words to say just as it geared up to destroy the monster.

Suddenly the book, Grimoire Weiss, flew in front of Harry's face and opened up.
"Boy, is there anything there?" There was a definitely worried tone to Weiss's voice. Harry was confused, of course the was stuff there! He just couldn't read it. He glanced at the book's pages, and froze. The pages were blank. Now under his own control, Grimoire Weiss flipped through the pages faster than Harry's hands could move. But the result was the same – each page was blank.

"Grimoire Weiss..they…they're all blank…"

"Curses and damnation! All that kicking around and getting knocked down has knocked my verses clean out of me! Wait…Boy! Do you see that line of golden text in the creature?" Harry blinked. He hadn't noticed anything like that before. But now that his attention had been brought to it, he could make out golden text. It was buried within the red and black text, about where the heart would be if the creature was human.

"Y-yes! Near its heart?"

"Exactly boy. I think that is my magic! Slay the creature and my aid is yours for the foreseeable future!" The word magic made Harry take notice. Taking the initiative, he lowered his torch like a lance and charged at the creature. The burning wood punched clear through the red and black torso, causing the creature to shriek again as it caught on fire. Weiss suddenly flew up above Harry's head as the monster burned to death. The creature's blood – the red text, Harry realized – flowed out of its body, and into the Grimoire.

"D-did you just drink its blood Weiss?"

"My name is Grimoire Weiss! And blood is sound, sound is words, and words…words are power!" The gold text shattered apart within the burnt husk of the monster and shot out of the carcass, then gathered together and flowed into Weiss as well. With a maniacal cackle, the book dropped back down to the level of the now falling body.

"Boy, hold out your hand towards the monstrosity and I shall show you my power!" Harry did as instructed, holding out his right hand after letting go of the torch. The Grimoire flew in front of his hand and opened up, this time with the open pages facing the blackened corpse that was still moving slowly, small bits of red pulsing to show it was still alive. Suddenly a small red bolt flew from the pages of Grimoire Weiss and slammed into the monster. As if that was the first drop, bolt after bolt shot from the book into the creature, tearing it apart. Though Harry did notice that the first bolt was larger than the subsequent bolts, they did their job, literally ripping the monster apart.

"That..that is your power Grimoire Weiss?" After seeing that, Harry was inclined to be polite. Though it wasn't the same magic that the old man with twinkling eyes had shown him, and that his aunt had later explained was what his parents could do, it was still power beyond his capabilities.

"Yes…" There was a strange note in the book's voice. "Though, sad to say, that is only a part, and indeed, the weakest of my verses. Curses and damnations, the others are somewhere else, in other Shades. Though I can feel that they haven't gone far, their signatures have faded…they've gone into hiding." The book spun around, the face floating just before Harry's. "I still need your help boy. Only someone who has seen the verses can see Shades, unless they themselves can wield this magic. And I need someone who can see the Shades to help me fight them – I cannot use my magic without a human component. What say you, shall we work together? And boy, know this – if they are not slain, the Shades will eventually become numerous enough to eliminate your species altogether." Harry froze. He was only nine, and now he's being asked to help save the world?

"Don't worry lad." It was almost as if Grimoire Weiss could feel his fear. "As I said, the creatures with my verses inside of them have gone in to hiding. The majority that you might fight will be much weaker, but for now, there won't be any Shades for some time to come. We have time to prepare."

"Uhm…Grimoire Weiss… my..my name is Harry Potter… and…" The boy was nervous.

"What is it boy? Speak!"
"I'm a wizard." Silence met this statement. "Or.. or rather I will be, when I go to school in two years."

"A… a wizard.. just like Emile was… or something else… ugh. Blasted memories. Boy, magic may not be enough to face these creatures. Not without more of the verses, and even then we will face Shades who negate magic. You need to learn how to fight, though what I saw today wasn't too bad, it was…unrefined. I can instruct you, I traveled for many years with one of the finest swordsmen to ever live. I must say… you remind me of him…" Harry was confused. "Ah, forget it for now. I don't know why you do. Still. We must acquire a blade for you, and train you in its uses. Come lad, let us get out of this dank hole! Oh, leave the torch.. I can hide myself still, but that would be rather conspicuous." Weiss seemed to shimmer and distort. Harry could still make him out, but then he realized that what he was seeing was the red and black text, just like the shade. And now that he thought about it, just like the bolts that had destroyed the monster.

This must be his magic…Text magic… Harry nodded and dropped the torch. The two exited the cavern, with Weiss floating behind Harry when the tunnel narrowed.

Eventually they emerged back in to the library. Harry looked around nervously, but saw no one waiting for him there. He hurriedly placed the books back in front of the entrance to the tunnel and slumped over, exhaustion setting in as the adrenaline from his fight wore off.

It was like this, slumped over in front of a bookshelf, that Dudley found his cousin sleeping. The boy shook his head and grinned before rousing the black haired boy enough to get him to put one arm over his shoulder.

"Harry? What made that red mark on your face?"

"Huh-whazzat? Oh.. book fell on me." Dudley laughed as the two headed home. Harry never even realized that on Dudley's other side was a bag with several books in it. On the top of each was 'How To Series'.

Alright, that's the end of the prologue!

To set some things clear:

This will be a Harry x Hermione Fiction. It will be rated 'M' for gore, and lemons much later on. Also included will be:
Good Dumbles!

Smart/Semi-Powerful Harry (Grimoire Weiss has the power…but Harry learns things himself too.)

New foes, mostly from the Nier game, though some will be new to me, like this first enemy was.

And here is what the abilities of Grimoire Weiss are:
This book is combat oriented. Spells are:

Dark Blast – Shown here. Basically a repeating attack of energy. Relatively weak on its own, but makes up for it with nearly unlimited usage.

Dark Lance – Unacquired. A larger, stronger version of the Dark Blast. Weiss refers to it in this chapter, his spell that he claimed could pierce the Shade 'like it was a bug on display'. Will require more careful targeting than the point and shoot Dark Blast. Starts at one lance, will later become more.

Dark Hand – Unacquired. A giant fist made of the magic of Grimoire Wiess. It slams into the ground, crushing its opponents. Harry will need to train in judging the distance that this thing strikes at. More skill with Weiss's magic will let him create more shockwaves.

Dark Execution – Unacquired. Harry will grab Weiss and slam him into the ground. Moments later, spears of dark energy will explode from the ground in the direction that Harry was facing. More skill will allow him to add more directions, until he can eventually send eight rays of spears outwards.

Dark Whirlwind – Unacquired. A blade of dark energy will form near Harry and begin spinning around him. More skill will enable him to create more blades, up to four total.

These are the next few abilities, and they will take a while to be acquired. Harry won't get most of these until after the Prisoner of Azkaban equivalent that I'll have.

Harry won't face most of the monsters from the game, though the major bosses he will fight, or I'll come up with a new foe. So if you know the game Nier, you might watch out for the major bosses to have an idea of what Harry might face. But don't rely solely on the game, I might not go in order.

Oh, and yes – a couple of the characters from Nier will be making appearances. Thought the titular character, and his daughter won't be, you can expect to see Kaine and Emile (second form) in here at some points.

All right, so love it, hate it, tell me what you think people! And I'm just waiting for some ideas for songs for people to sing, and once I get a few, I'll have the next chapter or two of 'Results' ready to go!

Ja ne!

-G.T.-