Prologue

In the dimly lit confines of Number 4 Privet Drive, young Harry Potter cowered beneath the stairs, his small frame trembling with fear and exhaustion. The cupboard, his meager sanctuary, offered little solace from the relentless cruelty of his Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon Dursley.

Uncle Vernon's booming voice echoed through the house like thunder as he berated Harry for the slightest transgressions, real or imagined. "You worthless boy!" he would roar, his face twisted with rage. "You're nothing but a burden, a freak!"

Aunt Petunia, her thin lips pressed into a disapproving line, would sneer at Harry's every move, her disdain palpable in every glance. "You'll never amount to anything," she would hiss, her voice dripping with venomous contempt.

For Harry, each day was a battle for survival, a never-ending cycle of neglect and abuse. His meals were sparse and tasteless, mere scraps thrown to him like a dog. His clothes were hand-me-downs, threadbare and ill-fitting, a constant reminder of his status as an unwanted burden.

But it was the emotional scars that cut the deepest, the constant barrage of insults and taunts eroding Harry's sense of self-worth. "Freak!" they would chant, their voices echoing in his ears long after the words had faded away.

As Harry timidly washed the dishes in the Dursleys' kitchen, his heart pounding with trepidation, a slip of his fingers sent a pan crashing to the floor with a resounding clang. Instantly, his breath caught in his throat as fear coursed through him like a tidal wave.

The sound echoed through the house, a stark reminder of his clumsiness, his inadequacy in the eyes of his uncle. With a thunderous roar, Uncle Vernon stormed into the kitchen, his face contorted with rage, his fists clenched at his sides.

"You useless boy!" he bellowed, his voice reverberating off the walls. "Can't even do a simple task without causing trouble, can you?"

Harry's heart sank as he braced himself for the inevitable punishment, his eyes fixed on the floor, unable to meet his uncle's furious gaze. He knew what was coming – the harsh words, the cruel reprimands, perhaps even a blow to the head.

With a swift motion, Uncle Vernon grabbed Harry by the collar of his shirt, yanking him forward with a strength born of anger and frustration. "I'll teach you to be more careful," he spat, his breath hot against Harry's face.

And then, without warning, he delivered a stinging slap across Harry's cheek, the force of the blow sending shockwaves of pain rippling through his body. Harry staggered backward, his vision blurred with tears, his cheek throbbing with agony.

As he struggled to regain his composure, Harry felt a surge of anger and defiance rise within him, a fierce determination to defy the cruelty of his uncle and prove himself worthy of more than the abuse he endured.

With a final, contemptuous shove, Uncle Vernon sent Harry sprawling into the cramped space beneath the stairs, the darkness enveloping him like a suffocating blanket. Harry's breath came in ragged gasps as he struggled to push himself upright, his body aching from the beating he had endured.

"Stay there, you worthless boy," Uncle Vernon spat, his voice dripping with venomous disdain. "You're not getting out of there until I say so. And don't even think about asking for food – you'll be lucky if I let you out at all this week."

The sound of Uncle Vernon's heavy footsteps receded into the distance, leaving Harry alone in the suffocating silence of the cupboard. Tears stung his eyes as he curled into a tight ball, his stomach gnawing with hunger, his body trembling with exhaustion and pain.

Every breath was a struggle, every heartbeat a reminder of the pain that engulfed him like a relentless tide.

With trembling hands and a voice choked with tears, Harry whispered a desperate prayer into the void, his words a plea for salvation from the hellish existence that had become his reality. "Please," he begged, his voice barely audible above the sound of his own ragged breathing. "Anyone who can hear me, please help me. Get me out of here, or... or let me die. I can't take it anymore. I can't..."

His words trailed off into a sob, his chest heaving with the weight of his despair. In the silence that followed, Harry clung to the fragile thread of hope that still lingered within him, praying that somehow, someway, his plea would be answered and he would find a way to escape the torment of Privet Drive.

As Harry's tears mingled with the darkness of the cupboard, his magic stirred within him, a silent plea for deliverance from the endless torment that had become his existence. Unbeknownst to him, his cry for help resonated across the cosmos, reaching out into the vast expanse of space.

In the depths of the void, Drakor, a Klyntar Symbiote, drifted in a state of hibernation, its consciousness dormant yet still attuned to the ebb and flow of the universe. Sensing the distress call of a kindred spirit, Drakor stirred from its slumber, drawn inexorably towards the source of Harry's anguish.

Through the vast expanse of space, Drakor hurtled towards Earth, guided by the beacon of Harry's magic, a glimmer of light amidst the darkness of the cosmos. With each passing moment, the symbiote's presence grew stronger, its essence intertwining with Harry's own as it raced towards its destined destination.

As Harry succumbed to exhaustion and drifted into a fitful sleep, unaware of the cosmic forces converging around him, Drakor drew closer, its arrival heralding a new chapter in the young wizard's tumultuous journey. And though Harry slept on, his subconscious reaching out for salvation, Drakor approached, ready to answer the call and forge a bond that would defy the bounds of space and time.

—

As the night sky over Privet Drive was shattered by a deafening crash and a blinding burst of light, the residents of the quiet suburban street were jolted from their slumber, their hearts pounding with fear and confusion.

In the Dursley household, Uncle Vernon's face paled with terror as he exchanged panicked glances with Aunt Petunia and Dudley. Trembling with apprehension, they huddled together in the safety of their living room, their voices hushed with fear as they speculated about the source of the disturbance.

With a heavy hand and harsh words, Uncle Vernon seized Harry by the arm and dragged him from the cramped confines of the cupboard under the stairs. "Get out there, boy," he spat, his voice trembling with fear. "Go and see what's happened. And don't you dare come back until you've checked every inch of the street."

Heart pounding with trepidation, Harry stumbled out into the night, his eyes wide with fear as he scanned the darkness for any sign of danger. Every shadow seemed to loom menacingly, every sound a whisper of impending doom.

But as Harry ventured further into the street, his senses heightened by the adrenaline coursing through his veins, he soon discovered the true source of the disturbance. There, in the middle of Privet Drive, was a large crater, the ground still smoldering from the impact. Harry's breath caught in his throat as he cautiously approached, assuming it was a meteorite that had plummeted to Earth.

The air around the crater was thick with the scent of burnt earth and ozone, the remnants of the intense energy that had accompanied the crash. As he peered over the edge, Harry's eyes widened in amazement and fear. At the center of the crater lay not a rock, but a shimmering, pulsating mass, dark and fluid, unlike anything he had ever seen before.

Drawn by an inexplicable pull, Harry took a step closer, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as he felt a strange connection to the entity before him. The mass began to shift and move, reaching out tendrils of dark energy that seemed to sense his presence.

In the quiet of the night, Harry's heart hammered in his chest as the entity, Drakor, began to respond to the call of his magic. The symbiote's tendrils wrapped gently around Harry, enveloping him in a cocoon of darkness that felt both alien and oddly comforting.

Harry's mind raced with a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions as he realized that this was no mere meteorite, but something far more extraordinary. The symbiote, sensing his desperation and pain, began to merge with him, infusing him with its power and strength.

As the bond formed between them, Harry felt a surge of energy unlike anything he had ever experienced. The bruises and aches from his uncle's beating seemed to fade away, replaced by a newfound resilience and determination. He looked down at his hands, now covered in a sleek, dark substance that shimmered with hints of red and gold. The entity, Drakor, was predominantly black, its form rippling with draconic scales that glinted ominously in the moonlight.

Tendrils of Drakor continued to weave around Harry, solidifying their connection. He felt an immense power coursing through him, as if the very essence of the symbiote was merging with his own. Drakor's form took on a more defined shape, sprouting wings that arched majestically from Harry's back, their edges tipped with gold and red like embers in a forge.

Harry gasped, a mixture of awe and fear coursing through him as he felt the wings flex and move with his thoughts. The symbiote's presence in his mind was both alien and familiar, a comforting whisper in the midst of his turmoil. Together, they were more than just boy and symbiote; they were a single entity, bound by a shared will to survive and thrive.

As Harry took a tentative step forward, the ground beneath him seemed to hum with energy. He felt lighter, stronger, as if the weight of his previous life had been lifted from his shoulders. The memories of the Dursleys' cruelty still lingered, but they were now tempered by a newfound sense of purpose.

Instinctively, Harry flexed his new wings, feeling the power within them. He leapt into the air, his movements guided by Drakor's influence. With a powerful beat, he soared above Privet Drive, the wind rushing past him as he flew for the first time. The sensation was exhilarating, a taste of the freedom he had longed for his entire life.

As Harry soared above Privet Drive, the cool night air rushing past him, the exhilaration of flight filled his heart with an overwhelming sense of freedom. The rows of suburban homes, once symbols of confinement, now seemed like mere specks beneath him. With Drakor by his side, the world stretched out before him, an endless expanse of possibilities and new adventures.

In the silence of the night, a voice resonated within Harry's mind, deep and ancient, carrying with it the weight of countless eons. It was Drakor, announcing himself in a poetic declaration that echoed through their shared consciousness.

"I am Drakor, traveler of the cosmos,

Wings of night and ember's glow.

I answer the call of a heart in need,

Bound by fate, together we grow.

From the shadows, I bring forth light,

A power untamed, fierce and bold.

In our union, strength will rise,

A tale of courage, yet to be told.

Through the stars and realms unknown,

Our bond shall defy time's relentless tide.

With wings of fire and scales of night,

Together, in freedom, we shall abide."

Harry felt the words reverberate through his very being, each syllable infusing him with a sense of purpose and resolve. The symbiote's poetic proclamation was more than just an introduction; it was a promise of the journey they would undertake together, a testament to the strength they now shared.

As Harry circled back towards Number 4 Privet Drive, he knew that his life would never be the same. The bond with Drakor had given him the power to rise above his past and face the future with unshakable courage. No longer a prisoner of his circumstances, he was now a beacon of hope, ready to carve out his own destiny in a world full of endless possibilities.

Back on the ground, the Dursleys watched in stunned silence, too afraid to intervene as they witnessed the transformation unfolding before their eyes. Little did they know that the boy they had mistreated for so long was now bonded with a force beyond their comprehension, ready to rise above the darkness that had plagued his life and embrace the boundless horizon of his newfound freedom.

---

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