Chapter Text
The Boy Who Obliterated
Lord Voldemort had made quick work of the father and the mother of the baby who was supposed to be a threat to him.
He only had one more left to kill, after making quick work of the mother, he strode over to the crib to get rid of the child.
The child sat there calmly, looking at him. The boy looked unlike any other toddler he had ever faced. He had bright, gleaming blue eyes and white hair. The child didn’t cry out for his parents, didn’t react, and didn’t even blink, as the wand was pointed at him.
“Avada Kedavra.”
The child stared.
The death spell was fired-and promptly stopped in midair.
It never hit Harry Potter, it just held in place until it was thrown backwards, out the window.
Lord Voldemort stared in astonishment.
The one year old stood up and stared at him, before he sighed. A one year old sighed.
Then, he pointed a stubby finger at him, and suddenly he felt a sudden, powerful force overcome him. A giant, purple blast of death was aimed right at him and blew the house to pieces. It blew Voldemort to smithereens, sending him flying in terror.
The one year old child sat there, before he yawned and looked up. Then he spoke. “Fuck, this blows my cover. Fucking hell.”
Severus Snape stared at the bizarrely colored child. When had Harry Potter been born with white hair and blue eyes? A mutant gene?
“Albus, are you sure this is the child?”
Said child waved at them and smiled.
“I’m sure it is him. But there is no sign of the Killing Curse having taken effect on him. For reasons unknown to us, the spell backfired and destroyed Voldemort. I’m guessing it was his mother’s touch.” He frowned at the infant.
But as he tried to touch him, he could not.
He could not even touch him or pick him up. Some force blocked him.
It wasn’t until Hagrid showed up that the boy could even be touched.
The toddler turned to stare at Snape and waved sarcastically at him, in a manner entirely too smug for a one year old to do.
So he’s been abandoned and left with non-magical people. Non-Jujutsu people, and they abuse people.
Time to set some boundaries.
Satoru puts up with it at first. Petunia makes fun of his hair and tries to dye it, but it always returns to normal.
They try to make him hide his eyes. He doesn’t care.
They yell. He doesn’t care.
“You little freak!” Vernon yells, trying to hit Satoru.
His slap doesn’t even touch the six year old, who yawns.
“Are you ever gonna get somewhere with this little speech? Cuz it’s honestly as boring as you are, old man.”
Vernon lost it. “You’re really getting it this time!”
Then the brat disappeared before his eyes.
“Gotta get me first.”
Vernon tried to actually whip him.
Then there was mysteriously a house fire.
After putting out the flames, the firefighters had no idea what caused the flames.
Vernon entirely suspected the freak who was his nephew. The albino freak who caused bad things to happen and didn’t give a shit about anyone.
“I was up in my room and didn’t notice anything.” He said simply, while eating a donut.
Vernon and Petunia Dursley learned several things very fast.
First of all, Harry Potter showed no interest in being a wizard or in asking about that world, much to their relief. He seemed to want to be as normal as possible and enjoyed eating their food and enjoyed watching TV.
That was where their praise of him ended.
He was decidedly abnormal, with his freakish white hair, his bizarre eyes that everyone talked about. He could teleport. He could make things disappear or blow things up when he wanted.
No one knew how he could do it, but Vernon knew the boy wasn’t a wizard, but something else inhuman entirely. No natural child has white hair.
But the biggest thing they learned was that crossing their nephew always resulted in disaster.
One time, they attempted to leave him alone while they took Dudley to the zoo. The house fire made them rush back home and after their nephew bawled about how he was being abused, they had no choice but to bring him along.
He drank all of the lemonade and snacks he wanted while smirking at Vernon.
He was a freak, but he wasn’t one of them. He still feared and hated the child.
Marge had tried to straighten the child out.
She’d trapped him up in a tree with Ripper barking at him.
The child had pointed his fingers at the dog and suddenly the dog ran away in terror, and wouldn’t approach.
Then suddenly Marge was unable to speak a coherent word and fell into a coma for months.
When she awoke, she was utterly terrified of the white-haired boy, who could be found with his feet up on the patio.
He did something. He could never prove it because no one believed them.
The child was a goddamned manipulative bastard.
He just couldn’t wait until those freaks got their precious savior.
They’d want to send him back, too.
Satoru stared at the people he could clearly see vanishing in thin air. They weren’t that subtle. His eyes could see it all.
That was why when the letter entered Privet Drive, Satoru simply took one look at it and threw it away, assuming it was some crazy scam.
The same letter arrived a day later, and Satoru again, threw it away.
“You threw the letter away?” Vernon said in disbelief.
“Yup, those crazy people seem to think magic is real. They’re obviously high on something.” Satoru drank from his chocolate milk as he said this.
Another letter appeared again.
Satoru promptly cast a Red and incinerated it.
More letters appeared the next day, but Satoru nailed them to the tree to use as a sign that read: “Go away”.
“Harry Potter hasn’t answered his Hogwarts letter, Albus!” Minerva cried.
“I’m sure he’s enjoying being a child.” Dumbledore said, being dumb as nails.
He refused to believe Arabella’s tales of the child. Children are destructive, but not that destructive.
When Rubeus Hagrid arrived to rescue who he believed to be an abused child, he instead encountered the eleven year old sitting in the top part of the tree, his legs out.
“Are you Harry?” He asked.
“Some people call me that,” he said in a strangely Japanese accent, “I go by Satoru.”
“Get down from there, you’ll hurt yourself!”
The boy flung himself down and landed on his feet.
“A real giant, huh? Didn’t think they existed outside of cursed spirits. You’re really big, huh?”
Hagrid was beginning to wish he’d stayed at home.
“Yer folks treat you all right?”
“They love me so much they want me to stay there 265 days out of the year!” He chirped.
As they left, a random cursed spirit appeared and ate Dudley’s friends before walking off.
Yes, they had followed him here. No, he didn’t know why.
No, he didn’t intervene most of the time.