Harry James Potter was a happy child.
He lived in a small cottage in the woods of Mahora Academy City, the extremely large campus of the largest school in the entire world, which he also attended. The cottage was small only on the outside, though, as within it was a large, if still cozy, and lavish home for both him and his family. He had parents, though he didn't look like them.
There was his father, a rather tall young man of some eighteen or so years. There were minor similarities between him and his father, one of which was the hair, which on both of them was messy, though while Harry's hair would curl if he allowed it to grow long, his father's hair would fall behind his back in a cascade of spikes. The color couldn't be any more different, as Harry's hair was as dark as the night while his father's was a bright, fiery red. There were other similarities, such as their facial structures, specifically their cheekbones and chin, being similar, and their mannerisms being similar as well, but beyond that, there wasn't much to compare them with.
Particularly because while his adoptive father was rather tall, Harry found himself on the shorter end of the spectrum, when compared to his classmates at least. Given that he was an English boy comparing himself to Japanese boys, this was even more noticeable, as the height average for either country was against him.
However, if Harry had few similarities with his father, then he had none with his mother... except their height. Admittedly, this was because his mother looked, for all the world, as if she was only ten years old, which was quite distracting. She was blonde, with very long and silky smooth hair... Harry liked his mother's hair a whole lot, because it was so soft and it annoyed her a lot when he or his father ran their hands through it.
There was also her tendency to wear black, and more disturbing to Harry, the tendency to wear outfits so risqué that people'd often wondered if the woman who sometimes dropped by to pick him up from grade school was some sort of erotic cosplayer.
Oh. Hadn't mentioned that, right?
Harry's mother didn't always look like she was ten years old. Sometimes, she used her magic, her inherent power, to transform herself into an adult woman, with all that it entailed, including sizable breasts, a pert behind and of course, the stature to accompany it. Privately, Harry liked his mother's smaller form better. There were many more ways to play with her when her arms weren't long enough to keep him away without him being able to do anything about it.
Harry liked his parents a lot. His father was a hero, a very important one at that, who had once saved an entire world! And he did it because it was the right thing to do, not for the sake of a reward, or anything of the sort.
His mother, meanwhile...
Well, if his father was cool, then his mother was the coolest. Simply because she was an evil villain, and everyone knows that the villain is always cooler than the hero. They got to wear all the best, most stylish clothes, they had the best lairs, and Harry thought that the cottage he lived in was an example of this, and failing that, he could always mention the resort palace his mother owned, and more importantly...
Villains had the best songs and the most memorable lines, as well.
So while Harry thought his father was a very cool guy and all, he was certain that his mother was a whole lot cooler. Then again, young Harry's perspective was a bit skewed. After all, he'd grown up in a household where there was a murderous doll that threatened with disemboweling every one of his classmates he brought home, and he had robot maids taking care of each and every one of his needs. His mother was the most notorious criminal of all time, with the highest bounty ever put on a criminal, and his father was the nicest and most cheerful eldritch abomination you could find on Earth.
People who met his family thought that they were quite weird, and Harry often had trouble socializing with his peers because of it, as he was always ready to fervently defend them. It didn't help that spending time in a resort that lengthened an hour into a day as well as being raised by two people who didn't know what a "childhood" was led to Harry maturing mentally quite a bit ahead of his peers.
Fortunately, however, Harry had loads and loads of aunts, all of whom hovered around his home and visited fairly often, and who had been quite helpful and supportive of him, which helped him a lot during his younger years.
Later on, however, there was another, easier solution, when Harry showed signs of a bright enough mind that would allow Evangeline's robotic maids to tutor him so he could skip grades, and be with his peers, instead of around children.
Eventually, Harry wound up with boys no less than four years his senior, and while there was a little friction at the start, he soon made friends. He had two best friends who'd been the first to be friendly to him, on his first day, and who'd been the ones who'd basically made the experience of school worthwhile. Otherwise, he'd just have quit school to be home schooled by his mother's robot maids.
Harry's best friends were also quite fond of his home, though whether it be because of the cute robot maids, the great and plentiful food or the fact that at least one of them got along really well with Chachazero (mostly because he was an aspiring horror writer and Chachazero knew a lot about how to scare people shitless), Harry didn't know. Where you to ask them, however, they would've just told you that it was because of all of the above, as well as the size of his house allowing them to hang out comfortably, the fact that Harry owned the latest game consoles.
And it'd be a lie.
The true reason they had unanimously decided to hang out at Harry's house was simply because of his mother.
Because both boys were experiencing puberty, and it was widely agreed in their classroom that Harry Springfield's mother was a Grade S MILF. Those two were the envy of their male classmates, because their inherent niceness had allowed them to grow close to the boy whose mother was the source of many a masturbation fantasy. The fact that the two told tales of what that woman wore around the house, which was not much, had certainly helped their popularity a great deal.
Having Harry around to confirm his mother's ridiculously sexy outfits, and even pictures of it, certainly didn't hurt.
Some would wonder why Harry never reacted to the comments about his mother in a stereotypically violent fashion... and that would be because Harry understood that his mother was an evil villain, and evil villains are supposed to be sexy as all hell. Therefore, it only made sense for everyone to lust after his mother, given that she was a villain. Plus, it didn't seem to bother her, so why should he let it bother him?
Though it was a bit annoying to have everyone comment on how hot his mother was every time they saw him, due to repetition, if nothing else.
There was also some weirdness in that his father sometimes slipped and called his mother "Master" instead of her name, but she seemed to always be happy when that happened, so he didn't mind it too much.
And his father couldn't stop crying whenever they watched the Lion King.
There was also the fact that for some reason, every time one or sometimes more of his aunties came over, he'd be kicked out of the house for the day, while they'd discuss adult matters he was apparently too young for still.
He'd tried to sneak in and listen in on their conversations, but never had quite managed it.
They must've been really fun conversations, too, because his aunts would always have the biggest smiles on their faces when they left, and his mom would always be smugly satisfied afterwards.
His father always looked really tired those days, though. Harry knew his father worked really, really hard all the time, but he never looked quite as tired as during the days when three or four of his aunties would drop by at the same time.
Maybe he'd understand when he was older. That's what they kept telling him, anyway. His mother was always on Harry's side, though, arguing that his father had started having those adult conversations not much older than Harry was, but she was always rebuked with the fact that Harry's father had special circumstances and no one should have to be in adult conversations before they were ready.
Then it became a very heated debate until they took it into the resort, usually locking it behind them.
Things were always okay after that, so Harry assumed they were just having more adult conversations. His auntie Chisame and his auntie Chachamaru seemed to have a lot of those with his mother, whenever the two dropped by, and his father was usually dragged into it unwillingly.
All in all, Harry was enjoying his life, and he was ready to continue living simply the way he was... at least, until that letter arrived.
What letter?
Well, one that should have been delivered by an owl instead of an old man, and one who invited him to a school of magic. A letter that Harry had been expecting, though he'd feared it might not come.
Finally, the time to attend Hogwarts had arrived.
"You got everything?" Evangeline asked, raising an eyebrow. "I'm not flying all the way to Scotland to fetch your toothbrush, so you better make sure you've got everything," she said.
At this, Haru scratched the back of his neck, chuckling lightly, "you've got your checklist, right?" he asked.
"Yes, I've got everything," Harry said, nodding, before walking up to his father and giving him a hug. "I'll miss you, dad," he said.
"Don't worry, we'll be seeing each other again as soon as Christmas rolls around," Haru said, patting his head.
Then Harry turned to his mother and hugged her, as well. However, as they were nearly the same height, this hug was a lot less awkward in that sense, but a lot more awkward in that Evangeline merely awkwardly patted his back as he hugged her. "I'll make you proud, mom..."
Evangeline smiled for a bit. "You're going to be a great villain one day, Harry," she said. "You better don't disappoint me!"
Haru smiled at the sight of his wife and son interacting. Usually, Evangeline was rarely that affectionate, even when it was just himself and Harry... it was clear that she'd at least grown a little attached to the son he'd forced on her. He was glad he'd made that choice, so long ago. Even if this hadn't been what he pictured his future like back then... He could say he was happy and satisfied with how it'd gone.
Even if now he was resisting the urge to cry like a baby while his son, the one he'd raised when he himself had been but a child forced to mature faster by circumstance, went to school back on their shared homeland.
"Are you sure Dumbledore said it was okay to take one of the Chacha models with you?" Haru asked, looking at his son, trying to find something to talk about so as to stem the tears in an effort to not look like a fool in front of his son. Plus, he knew Evangeline liked it when he cried on her, even if she later denied it.
"Yes. He said he could easily pass it off as a homunculus familiar," Harry said, nodding.
That was good. Neglecting his studies while he was away would've been bad.
Well, that, and every villain needed to have their trusty henchmen. Harry would be naked without at least one robot servant, at least until he could start building his evil empire within the school. Evangeline approved of his reasoning, of course. Haru simply gave up when they turned two against one on him.
And so Harry sent his owl response to Hogwarts, to McGonagall.
Except, instead of the usual response, he'd been coached by Evangeline into writing a properly threatening note.
He stood at the top of a recent tower that had been built into Mahora's main building, after an incident involving the most recent class 3-A and a truck full of tapioca pudding had resulted in the destruction of the old Clock Tower, with an owl resting on his arm. He knew he had to make a properly villainous move here, as per his mother's teachings. "When you get to Hogwarts, Owl, tell them that I'm coming to rule!" Harry commanded, and gestured with the arm the owl was perched in for it to move.
And it departed, its message to be delivered.
Harry giggled to himself, smiling. "That was so fun!" he said, before heading back down.
Meanwhile, as she scrying from a safe distance, Evangeline cackled triumphantly.
Haru slumped. "I'm just hoping Hogwarts will still be standing by christmas..."
"Huh..."
The owl hooted.
McGonagall blinked. "Maybe we should've left him with the Dursleys."
Albus Dumbledore smiled. "He's a good boy," he said, patting the head of Gryffindor on the shoulder.
"I knew Potter was sure to grow into an entitled brat, but this is ridiculous," Snape commented.
"Oh dear," Flitwick said, "Harry Potter, a villain!?"
"Merlin help us all," Sprout added.
"You're all doomed! YOU'RE DOOMED! DOOM!" Headmaster Phineas Nigellus Black's portrait yelled. "DOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOM!"
Everyone looked at the portrait. Including the other portraits.
"Do you not see it, fools!? The Dark Evangel trained him to be her successor! Her legacy!"
At this, all the heads of house looked at each other, while Dumbledore merely smiled indulgently.
"Oh shit," Snape vocalized, and for a moment, the houses were truly united as every one felt a chill run down their spines.