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English
Series:
Part 1 of The Crimson Chronicles
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Published:
2026-05-15
Updated:
2026-06-05
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4/?
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I. Stained

Summary:

Rory Potter had always wanted to be seen.

Not as a burden. Not as a stain. Not as the strange little girl bad things seemed to follow.

But wishful thinking never got people like Rory very far.

Then came the letter.

The one addressed to the cupboard under the stairs. The one that turned her entire world upside down and handed her something dangerous:

Answers.

Now, Rory is stepping into a world full of magic with a vicious streak, a wildfire’s worth of curiosity, and absolutely no intention of remaining powerless ever again.

After all, she’s the so-called Saviour of the Wizarding World.

And Rory Potter has never been very good at staying quiet.

 

This is a tale about a different kind of Harry Potter: vicious, vindictive, competitive, perceptive, and sarcastic — that's Rory Potter.

Flame-wielder. Crimson stain. Lily and James' one and only daughter. And the Girl-who-Lived.

[!!ON HIATUS DUE TO UPCOMING EXAMS!!]

Chapter 1: I. To Make A Way

Summary:

જ⁀➴ In this chapter;

Rory Potter survives by staying angry, stubborn, and impossible to break.

But after an accident leaves Vernon Dursley terrified of her for the first time, Rory realizes she may not be as powerless as everyone thinks.

And if no one is coming to save her, then she’ll just have to save herself.

 

WARNING ⚠️!!

Includes:

• Manhandling
• Implied (??) child abuse
• Abusive gaurdians
• Implied psychological/emotional abuse
• Implied bullies
• Explicit language

Notes:

Hi!! Author here, just call me Ciro or Parker!

And welcome to my first ever fic!!

I've had this work up on the drawing board for a couple months, but now, I've finally got my idea written down clearly!

Btw, I'm an amateur writer, I don't have much experience, so it might sound bad, but I'm hoping to improve!!

Also, English isn't my first language, but I DO excel at the subject, but who knows, you might find some mistakes, and if you do, sorryy

Anyhow, I hope you enjoy reading Book 1 of "Crimson": I. Stained!!

P.S. I don't support nor respect JKR at all. Not a lick. The only good thing she did was write the Harry Potter universe. But still, even if I hate J.K. Shitling, I'll have to give her credit for the Harry Potter universe, which I don't own. I just like the universe and book series, okay? Besides, JKR doesn't own HP anymore, the fandom does

P.P.S Some things in this fic are inspired by other fics, like Burning Red by NoNameWriter, Threads of Blood and Magic by Eloevera, Heavenee, and Marked by Midnight by Maddy_2614, so credit to all those fics and their creators!

— Ciro ✨️🍒

[!!CHAPTER EDITED: 29.05.2026!!]

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

_________________________________________________________________

✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦

PROLOGUE

"aut inveniam viam aut faciam."

—> I shall either find a way or make one. <—

 

- - -

 

Rory always knew she was supposed to be dead.

 

How could she not, with her aunt and uncle always mentioning it around her in increasingly scathing tones?

 

So yes, she was supposed to have died in the very same car crash that killed her supposedly "good-for-nothing, unemployed" parents.

 

Yet– she was here. Living. Breathing. Existing inside this horrid excuse for a home her parents had left behind for her.

 

She continued to live and suffer while her dead parents rested peacefully in the afterlife.

 

But this was her punishment, wasn’t it?

 

For evading Death. For slipping through his fingers.

 

Because unlike the stories say, surviving's almost never all cheery and happy in the end.

 

Sometimes, for unlucky little things like Rory, survival itself became the punishment.

 

And filthy stains like her only deserved punishment.

 

Didn’t they?

 

That was who she was, after all.

 

The delinquent girl with unnatural dark red hair.

 

The strange child who made strange things happen.

 

Privet Drive’s resident "crimson stain."

 

For a "worthless burden" like Rory Potter, happiness had never really been an option.

 

...Right?

 

 

PROLOGUE ENDED

✦ .  ⁺   . ✦ .  ⁺   . ✦


Summer of 1988

[July 31]

POV:

Rory Potter

 

[🚏: Nr.4, Privet Drive; Little Whinging, Surrey]

 

 

The girl with red hair.

The "mishap."

Privet Drive’s "crimson stain."

 

That was what they called her.

The gossips. The judgemental grannies. The mean little girls.

 

They all looked at her unnatural red hair, her dark chocolate eyes, her frail little frame—and they all thought the same thing.

Mistake.

 

And after a while, Rory herself had started believing it too.

 

After all, that was all she was, wasn’t it?

Crimson stain. Mishap. Scarlet menace. Worthless burden...

The list went on and on.

 

Things only started changing when—

She grew up.

 

Yes, that's all that really happened.

 

No dramatic revelation. No wise mentor swooping in to save her. No life-changing speech.

Just... growing up.

 

And that is where our tale begins.

With little moments where Rory slowly grows sharper, colder, harder—each one building toward one final incident.

 

So, let’s begin with that incident, hm?

- - -

Rory Potter stood across from Vernon Dursley, breathing hard, a wide-eyed, terrified—but determined—look stretched across her small face.

Faint orange-red sparks lingered around her fingers.

 

Vernon, her uncle, stared back at his niece looking both furious and utterly terrified at the same time, his face a dark purplish red.

 

His hands looked burnt.

Burnt badly.

The flesh was red-raw and smoking.

 

Petunia, Vernon's wife, stood frozen near the living-room doorway, shielding Dudley, her son, behind her back, her face as pale as a sheet and her eyes blown wide with horror.

Dudley, Rory's cousin brother, whimpered softly behind her, shaking like a leaf.

 

All because Rory had somehow burnt Vernon’s hands with...

Fire powers?

 

All she had done was shove at Vernon’s chest to push him away because he had been manhandling her towards her cupboard after another "incident."

 

An incident where she had somehow—completely accidentally, of course—made a bin lid fly straight into Dudley’s face.

 

Dudley and his best friend, Piers Polkiss, had been playing another game of "Hunting Red," where they chased Rory around the neighbourhood trying to beat her up.

 

They usually never caught her, though.

 

Rory didn’t look it, considering her malnourished little frame, but she was fast.

Very fast.

 

Except, today, she had cornered herself in an alley with a dead-end.

Dudley and Piers had almost grabbed her before a bin lid suddenly flew up out of nowhere and smashed directly into Dudley’s face.

 

The boys had been left gaping in shock while Rory herself had stood there thinking:

What the hell—?!

 

It should have been impossible.

There had barely been any wind that day.

The sky had been bright and clear and painfully sunny.

 

And yet...

It had still happened.

And somehow, deep down, Rory thought, maybe she had made it happen.

 

Magic...?

No. That sounded ridiculous.

 

But...

Rory wasn’t stupid.

 

She had noticed long ago that strange things always seemed to happen around her.

Too many strange things.

Far too many for coincidence.

 

So, in the end, she had privately settled on the idea that maybe she had some sort of telekinesis powers.

Because honestly, what else explained any of this?

 

Still, that wasn’t important right now.

After the alley incident, Dudley had immediately run crying to his parents, snitch that he was.

And naturally, Petunia and Vernon blamed Rory despite having absolutely no proof.

 

Not that they had ever needed proof before.

 

The entire thing only cemented the idea of Rory having powers even further in her mind.

 

But even that horrifying revelation hadn’t distracted from the gigantic screaming match Vernon had started afterward.

 

He had grabbed Rory by the arm hard enough to hurt.

Hard enough to leave marks.

"Stop—STOP! Let GO!"

 

But Vernon didn’t listen.

He just kept dragging her and yelling at her.

 

Rory screamed and thrashed wildly, panic clawing up her throat so violently that she could hear her own heartbeat pounding inside her ears louder than Vernon’s yelling.

 

The pressure inside her felt unbearable.

Like she was going to—

e x p l o d e.

 

And then...

That happened.

 

Flames burst from nowhere.

No—worse.

They burst from her.

 

Orange-red fire spiralled violently around Rory’s fingers before surging outward in one massive flare that engulfed Vernon’s hands.

 

He screamed, horrified and in utter pain.

 

Rory froze.

 

No bloody way...

 

Telekinesis had already been insane enough, but now this?

 

Fire?

What the hell's happening to me?

 

Rory’s thoughts spiralled helplessly as she stared at Vernon’s blistered, red-raw hands.

 

But one thing became painfully clear in that moment.

She really did make strange things happen.

 

She was...

Something.

 

Something wrong.

 

A freak?

No.

No.

 

Rory straightened slightly.

She was not a freak.

And she refused to ever think herself as one. 

 

Vernon stumbled backwards, clutching his ruined hands against his chest while staring at Rory like she was some sort of monster.

 

Rory stared back.

At the burns.

At the blistered flesh.

At the trembling fear in his eyes.

And despite the nausea twisting in her stomach, another feeling crept in beneath it.

 

Satisfaction.

Vindication.

 

She should have felt disgusted with herself for that.

Almost, she did.

Almost.

 

Vernon opened his mouth.

Rory instantly tensed.

 

But he closed it again.

Then opened it.

Then shut it once more.

He looked terrified.

 

Like his tiny little brain was struggling desperately to understand what had just happened.

 

Finally, he spoke.

"G-Go to your cupboard."

His voice shook on the first word but returned to its usual cruel harshness by the last.

 

Rory stayed perfectly still for a few seconds, before swallowing hard and turning away.

 

Making her way to her cupboard, she walked past Petunia and Dudley, who were still cowering by the living-room doorway.

 

Both of them flinched.

 

The fear in their eyes almost made Rory smile.

Yeah.

Be in my shoes for once.

 

But the small burst of satisfaction quickly faded as she reached the cupboard under the stairs.

Her cupboard.

 

Rory lifted her arm towards the handle and winced at the glaring red marks blooming across her forearm.

 

It’ll fade.

Hopefully.

 

Then she climbed inside, shut the door behind her, and curled into a sad little ball on the squashed-thin, barely comfortable mattress.

 

Fuck this life.

 

I hate it.

 

I hate it, I hate it, I hate it–

 

Those were Rory’s final thoughts before she cried herself silently to sleep while muffled voices whispered fearfully outside the cupboard door.

 

After this fateful day, Rory wasn’t going to let anyone control her anymore.

 

She wouldn’t let them win.

 

Fuck their false hospitality.

The Dursleys deserved to rot.

 

It was her birthday.

Rory was eight years old now.

And it was finally time for her to grow up.

 

Because if she couldn’t find a way out of her misery—

Then she would simply have to make one.

 

She wouldn’t wait for somebody to save her.

She wouldn’t wait for life to become kinder.

 

And she certainly wouldn’t keep lying down while the villains in her story won.

 

She was Rory Potter, after all.

 

_________________________________________________________________

 

 

To be continued...

Notes:

Sooo....

What do you think??

Okay?? Not okay??

Lmk in the comments!! — Ciro 🫣

Coming up next: More of Rory's life + Rory gets a letter