Founder's Heir & The Philosopher's Stone

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor do I make money from writing or posting this story.

Author Note: This story will contain some Ron, Ginny & Dumbledore Bashing. Harry will learn quickly and eventually become very powerful. There will be content about and related to diapers. Also there will be underage sex, bestiality and a few other things. If any of this dosen't work for you, please hit the back button on your browser immediately.

Pairings

Harry / Remus / Azrey

Note: This chapter will have an incredible likeness to the book, that is because most changes don't start happening till the next chapter.

Prologue – Horrid Childhood

Nearly ten years had passed since the Dursleys had woken up to find their nephew on the front step, but Privet Drive had hardly changed at all. The sun rose on the same tidy front gardens and lit up the brass
number four on the Dursleys' front door; it crept into their living room, which was almost exactly the same as it had been on the night when Mr. Dursley had seen that fateful news report about the owls.

Only the photographs on the mantelpiece really showed how much time had passed. Ten years ago, there had been lots of pictures of what looked like a large pink beach ball wearing different-colored bonnets -- but Dudley Dursley was no longer a baby, and now the photographs showed a large blond boy riding his first bicycle, on a carousel at the fair, playing a computer game with his father, being hugged and kissed by his mother.

The room held no sign at all that another boy lived in the house, too. No photographs on the mantel, no framed report cards, nothing to show that anyone but the three Dursley's lived in the house. Yet another did live with them Harry Potter was still there, asleep at the moment, but it wouldn't last for long. His Aunt Petunia was awake and it was her shrill voice that, like everyday before, made the first noise of the day.

"Up! Get up! Now!"

Harry woke with a start as he always did. One would think that after ten years of the same wake up call, that Harry would be used to it by now. Unfortunately Harry assumed he would never grow used to it, every time his aunt screeched to wake him, he woke with a start. After a few seconds of silence his aunt rapped on the door again.

"Up!" she screeched, louder than the first time.

With that Petunia spun around and headed back to the kitchen. Harry listened patiently until her heard the sound of a frying pan being put on the stove. With that he rolled onto his back and winced as a faint squish echoed through his room. Frowning he pushed himself into a sitting position attempting to ignore the squishing noise that echoed again.

Aunt Petunia was his mothers sister, not that she spoke of his mother at all. She was thin and had blonde hair, she also had twice the neck a normal person did. Sometimes when she was made she pursed her lips, in his opinion this made her look like a horse. He didn't mention his opinion to anyone else though, he knew the consequences for speaking his mind.

Looking around Harry searched for some clothing to wear. Eventually he found a pair of jeans and a shirt under his small mattress. Brushing the spiders off them he pulled the tattered oversized grey shirt over his head and yawned loudly. Harry was used to spiders, because the cupboard under the stairs was full of them, and that was where he slept.

As he brushed off the jeans he tried to remember the dream he had been having. It had been once of the few good ones he had, most of his dreams were more like nightmares. There had even been a flying motorcycle in this one, and he had a funny feeling he'd had this dream before. But for the life of him he couldn't remember when.

Suddenly a loud banging noise alerted Harry to his Uncle Vernon coming down the stairs. Uncle Vernon was a big, beefy man with a large purple face. He had thick, dark hair, a bushy black mustache, with hardly any neck and small, mean blue eyes. When exceptionally angry Vernon's face would begin to change colors and his veins would stand out. Unfortunately, Harry was particularly used to this happening.

Harry knowing what was about to happen quickly started to pull on the jeans. But as the door to the cupboard was pulled open he knew it was too late. A big beefy hand reached in and wrapped around his shoulder. He yelped loudly as in a single motion he was pulled out of his cupboard and tossed to the floor in the hallway.

A loud squish echoed through the hallway and Harry dared not look up. He knew what was coming as it happened far to often for his liking. He winced as he was lifted to his feet and slammed into the wall, another loud squish accompanying the motion.

“Wet again boy,” growled Uncle Vernon.

“I...I'm...I didn't...I'll try...I,” stuttered Harry still not looking his uncle in the face.

Harry gasped loudly as a fist impacted with his chest and the air left his lungs. Harry would have crumpled to the floor if not for the fact his uncle was still holding him pinned against the wall. Harry didn't react as a his uncle loosed two more firm punches into his chest before dropping him to the floor. Harry landed on the floor with a loud squish.

“Useless freak, change your diaper boy and than go stay in your cupboard,” growled Uncle Vernon.

“No Vernon, I need his help in the kitchen to look after the bacon!” yelled Aunt Petunia from the kitchen.

Vernon nodded and looked down at Harry who was slowly working himself to his feet. Growling Vernon spit down at his nephew before kicking him in the chest. Harry skidded backwards gasping softly as crippling pain filled his chest.

“Hurry up and help your Aunt you useless freak,” said Uncle Vernon spinning and heading towards the kitchen, “And don't bother putting on pants, diaper wearing toddler freaks don't need to cover their wet diapers.”

Harry groaned quietly and forced himself slowly to his feet. Pain radiated from his chest and his wet diaper was sticking uncomfortably to his skin. He had been hoping to change himself before being forced to slave for his 'family'. His family hated him for no other reason than being alive. He was forced to be a slave and punching bag for all of them. Harry knew what they did to him was abuse, but no one had ever believed him.

Even when he had told his teacher why he wore diapers, because they had refused to potty train him. He had been laughed at, the Dursley's had easily convinced the teachers it was because he was too stupid and lazy. The beating he had received after getting home had been one of the worst he could remember. It had also been the last chance of him ever having a normal life.

During the beating Uncle Vernon had stabbed him in the crotch with a kitchen knife. The blade had pierced his bladder and they had been forced to take him to the hospital. His bladder had been destroyed and though he had recovered mostly, he would never be able to train his bladder like most people learned.

Sighing Harry pushed those thoughts aside and worked on clearing his head. He couldn't believe that he had forgotten, how on earth could he have forgotten that it was Dudley's birthday. Blushing horribly at the fact he wasn't allowed to wear his pants Harry headed down the hall and into the kitchen. He wasn't surprised to see the table completely hidden beneath a massive pile of presents.

It looked as though Dudley had gotten the new computer he wanted, not to mention the second television and the racing bike. Exactly why Dudley wanted a racing bike was a mystery to Harry, as Dudley was very fat and hated exercise, unless of course it involved punching somebody.

Dudley's favorite punching bag was Harry, but he couldn't often catch him. Harry didn't look it, but he was very fast. Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Harry had always been small and skinny for his age. He looked even smaller and skinnier than he really was because all he had to wear were old clothes of Dudley's, and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was.

Harry has light almost pale, peach colored skin. His hair, which is a pitch black color, is very short and messy, never laying flat or staying in a proper position. Harry has incredible emerald green eyes, that seem to hold an intense kindness that is hidden behind a wall of pain and lonesomeness. Harry stands at 4'6", and is skinny with a scrawny build.

Harry had a thin face, knobbly knees, he stood at about 4'6” and was skinny with a scrawny build. He had light, almost pale peach colored skin. His hair, which was a pitch black color, was very short and messy, never laying flat or staying in a proper position. He also had incredible emerald green eyes, that held an intense kindness, that was hidden behind a wall of pain and lonesomeness.

He wore round glasses held together with a lot of Scotch tape because of all the times Dudley had punched him on the nose. The only thing Harry liked about his own appearance was a very thin scar on his forehead that was shaped like a bolt of lightning. He had had it as long as he could remember, and the first question he could ever remember asking his Aunt Petunia was how he had gotten it.

"In the car crash when your parents died," she had told him before saying, "And don't ask questions."

Don't ask questions, that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursleys. If he remained invisible to them, just doing what they would expect without them having to say anything, he remained safe. Anytime his Uncle had to talk to him, resulted in a beating or a painful punishment. Turning over the bacon Harry checked the temperature to make sure it wouldn't burn.

"Comb your hair!" barked Uncle Vernon.

About once a week, or more often if he was in a bad mood. Uncle Vernon would see how horrible Harry's hair looked, and shout at him that he needed to get a haircut. Harry must have had more haircuts than the rest of the boys in his class put together. But none of it made a difference, his hair simply grew that way, all over the place.

Harry was frying eggs by the time Dudley arrived in the kitchen. Dudley looked a lot like Uncle Vernon. He had a large pink face, not much neck, small, watery blue eyes, and thick blond hair that lay smoothly on his thick, fat head. Aunt Petunia often said that Dudley looked like a baby angel, Harry often said that Dudley looked like a pig in a wig. Of course than he got beaten, but he considered those times worth it.

Harry put the plates of egg and bacon on the table, which was difficult as there wasn't much room. Dudley, meanwhile, was counting his presents. After he finished, which took far too long in Harry's mind, his face fell.

"Thirty-six," he said, looking up at his mother and father, "That's two less than last year."

"Darling, you haven't counted Auntie Marge's present, see, it's here under this big one from Mommy and Daddy."

"All right, thirty-seven then," said Dudley, going red in the face.

Harry, who could see a huge Dudley tantrum coming on, began wolfing down his bacon as fast as possible in case Dudley turned the table over. Aunt Petunia obviously scented danger, too, because she said quickly, "And we'll buy you another two presents while we're out today. How's that, popkin? Two more presents. Is that all right''

Dudley thought for a moment. It looked like hard work. Finally he said slowly, "So I'll have thirty ... thirty..."

"Thirty-nine, sweetums," said Aunt Petunia.

"Oh." Dudley sat down heavily and grabbed the nearest parcel. "All right then."

Uncle Vernon chuckled. "Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father. 'Atta boy, Dudley!" He ruffled Dudley's hair. At that moment the telephone rang and Aunt Petunia went to answer it while Harry and Uncle Vernon watched Dudley unwrap the racing bike, a video camera, a remote control airplane, sixteen new computer games, and a VCR. He was ripping the paper off a gold wristwatch when Aunt Petunia came back from the telephone looking both angry and worried.

"Bad news, Vernon," she said. "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take him." She jerked her head in Harry's direction.

Dudley's mouth fell open in horror, but Harry's heart gave a leap. Every year on Dudley's birthday, his parents took him and a friend out for the day, to adventure parks, hamburger restaurants, or the movies. Every year, Harry was left behind with Mrs. Figg, a mad old lady who lived two streets away. Harry hated it there. The whole house smelled of cabbage and Mrs. Figg made him look at photographs of all the cats she'd ever owned.

"Now what?" said Aunt Petunia, looking furiously at Harry as though he'd planned this. Harry knew he ought to feel sorry that Mrs. Figg had broken her leg, but it wasn't easy when he reminded himself it would be a whole year before he had to look at Tibbles, Snowy, Mr. Paws, and Tufty again.

"We could phone Marge," Uncle Vernon suggested.

"Don't be silly, Vernon, she hates the boy."

The Dursleys often spoke about Harry like this, as though he wasn't there, or rather, as though he was something very nasty that couldn't understand them, like a slug.

"What about what's-her-name, your friend -- Yvonne?"

"On vacation in Majorca," snapped Aunt Petunia.

"You could just leave me here," Harry put in hopefully.

Harry desperately wished that his Aunt would agree to this. If she did he would be able to change himself, have a shower, watch some tv, hell maybe even eat something more than a few slices of bacon. But deep down he knew that it wasn't possible. Looking at his Aunt he saw she looked as though she'd just swallowed a lemon.

"And come back and find the house in ruins?" she snarled.

"I won't blow up the house," said Harry, but they weren't listening.

"I suppose we could take him to the zoo," said Aunt Petunia slowly, "… and leave him in the car...."

"That car's new, he's not sitting in it alone...."

Dudley began to cry loudly. In fact, he wasn't really crying, it had been years since he'd really cried, but he knew that if he screwed up his face and wailed, his mother would give him anything he wanted.

"Dinky Duddydums, don't cry, Mummy won't let him spoil your special day!" she cried, flinging her arms around him.

"I... don't... want... him... t-t-to come!" Dudley yelled between huge, pretend sobs. "He always sp- spoils everything!"

He shot Harry a nasty grin through the gap in his mother's arms.

Just then, the doorbell rang, "Oh, good Lord, they're here!" said Aunt Petunia frantically, and a moment later, Dudley's best friend, Piers Polkiss, walked in with his mother.

Piers was a scrawny boy with a face like a rat. He was usually the one who held people's arms behind their backs while Dudley hit them. Dudley stopped pretending to cry at once. Half an hour later, Harry, who couldn't believe his luck, was sitting in the back of the Dursleys' car with Piers and Dudley, on the way to the zoo for the first time in his life.

His aunt and uncle hadn't been able to think of anything else to do with him. He had been allowed to go to his room, change into a fresh diaper, put on the rest of his clothing, and pack a diaper bag. Harry's bag of course said right on it 'Harry's Diaper Bag' but at least he would be able to change when he used his diaper. Going out were the only times he was allowed to change his diaper as soon as possible, his aunt and uncle didn't want him embarrassing them anymore than he would be.

But before he'd gotten in the car, Uncle Vernon had taken him aside.

"I'm warning you," he had said, putting his large purple face right up close to Harry's, "I'm warning you now, boy, any funny business, anything at all, and you'll be in that cupboard from now until Christmas."

"I'm not going to do anything," said Harry, "Honestly..:

But Uncle Vernon didn't believe him, no one ever did. The problem was, strange things often happened around Harry and it was just no good telling the Dursleys he didn't make them happen. Once, Aunt Petunia, tired of Harry coming back from the barbers looking as though he hadn't been at all, had taken a pair of kitchen scissors and cut his hair so short he was almost bald except for his bangs, which she left "to hide that horrible scar."

Dudley had laughed himself silly at Harry, who spent a sleepless night imagining school the next day, where he was already laughed at for his baggy clothes and taped glasses. Next morning, however, he had gotten up to find his hair exactly as it had been before Aunt Petunia had sheared it off He had been given a week in his cupboard for this, even though he had tried to explain that he couldn't explain how it had grown back so quickly.

Another time, Aunt Petunia had been trying to force him into a revolting old sweater of Dudley's, brown with orange puff balls. The harder she tried to pull it over his head, the smaller it seemed to become, until finally it might have fitted a hand puppet, but certainly wouldn't fit Harry. Aunt Petunia had decided it must have shrunk in the wash and, to his great relief, Harry wasn't punished.

On the other hand, he'd gotten into terrible trouble for being found on the roof of the school kitchens. Dudley's gang had been chasing him as usual when, as much to Harry's surprise as anyone else's, there he was sitting on the chimney. The Dursleys had received a very angry letter from Harry's headmistress telling them Harry had been climbing school buildings. But all he'd tried to do, as he shouted at Uncle Vernon through the locked door of his cupboard, was jump behind the big trash cans outside the kitchen doors. Harry supposed that the wind must have caught him in mid-jump.

But today, nothing was going to go wrong. It was even worth being with Dudley and Piers to be spending the day somewhere that wasn't school, his cupboard, or Mrs. Figg's cabbage-smelling living room.

While he drove, Uncle Vernon complained to Aunt Petunia. He liked to complain about things: people at work, Harry, the council, Harry, the bank, and Harry were just a few of his favorite subjects. This morning, it was motorcycles.

"... roaring along like maniacs, the young hoodlums," he said, as a motorcycle overtook them.

I had a dream about a motorcycle," said Harry, remembering suddenly. "It was flying."

Uncle Vernon nearly crashed into the car in front. He turned right around in his seat and yelled at Harry, his face like a gigantic beet with a mustache: "MOTORCYCLES DON'T FLY!"

Dudley and Piers sniggered.

I know they don't," said Harry. "It was only a dream."

But he wished he hadn't said anything. If there was one thing the Dursleys hated even more than his asking questions, it was his talking about anything acting in a way it shouldn't, no matter if it was in a
dream or even a cartoon -- they seemed to think he might get dangerous ideas.

It was a very sunny Saturday and the zoo was crowded with families. The Dursleys bought Dudley and Piers large chocolate ice creams at the entrance and then, because the smiling lady in the van had asked Harry what he wanted before they could hurry him away, they bought him a cheap lemon ice pop. It wasn't bad, either, Harry thought, licking it as they watched a gorilla scratching its head who looked remarkably like Dudley, except that it wasn't blond.

Harry had the best morning he'd had in a long time. It didn't even bother him like it normally did when he soaked his diaper. He was careful to walk a little way apart from the Dursleys so that Dudley and Piers, who were starting to get bored with the animals by lunchtime, wouldn't fall back on their favorite hobby of hitting him. They ate in the zoo restaurant, and when Dudley had a tantrum because his knickerbocker glory didn't have enough ice cream on top, Uncle Vernon bought him another one and Harry was allowed to finish the first.

Harry felt, afterward, that he should have known it was all too good to last.

After lunch they went to the reptile house. It was cool and dark in there, with lit windows all along the walls. Behind the glass, all sorts of lizards and snakes were crawling and slithering over bits of wood and stone. Dudley and Piers wanted to see huge, poisonous cobras and thick, man-crushing pythons. Dudley quickly found the largest snake in the place.

It could have wrapped its body twice around Uncle Vernon's car and crushed it into a trash can, but at the moment it didn't look in the mood. In fact, it was fast asleep. Dudley stood with his nose pressed against the glass, staring at the glistening brown coils.

"Make it move," he whined at his father. Uncle Vernon tapped on the glass, but the snake didn't budge.

"Do it again," Dudley ordered. Uncle Vernon rapped the glass smartly with his knuckles, but the snake just snoozed on.

"This is boring," Dudley moaned. He shuffled away.

Harry moved in front of the tank and looked intently at the snake. He wouldn't have been surprised if it had died of boredom itself – no company except stupid people drumming their fingers on the glass trying to disturb it all day long. It was worse than having a cupboard as a bedroom, where the only visitor was Aunt Petunia hammering on the door to wake you up; at least he got to visit the rest of the house.

The snake suddenly opened its beady eyes. Slowly, very slowly, it raised its head until its eyes were on a level with Harry's. It winked. Harry stared. Then he looked quickly around to see if anyone was
watching. They weren't. He looked back at the snake and winked, too. The snake jerked its head toward Uncle Vernon and Dudley, then raised its eyes to the ceiling.

It gave Harry a look that said quite plainly, "I get that all the time.”

"I know," Harry murmured through the glass, though he wasn't sure the snake could hear him. "It must be really annoying."

The snake nodded vigorously.

"Where do you come from, anyway?" Harry asked. The snake jabbed its tail at a little sign next to the glass. Harry peered at it. Boa Constrictor, Brazil.

"Was it nice there?"

The boa constrictor jabbed its tail at the sign again and Harry read on: This specimen was bred in the zoo. "Oh, I see -- so you've never been to Brazil?"

As the snake shook its head, a deafening shout behind Harry made both of them jump.

"DUDLEY! MR. DURSLEY! COME AND LOOK AT THIS SNAKE! YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT IT'S DOING!"

Dudley came waddling toward them as fast as he could.

"Out of the way, you," he said, punching Harry in the ribs.

Caught by surprise, Harry fell hard on the concrete floor. Two things immediately happened, first and foremost Harry's lunch suddenly came back. Right into the back of his diaper as he unleashed a large bowel movement that expanded his diaper quite uncomfortably.

Secondly a loud voice shouted out, “How dare you!”

Harry looked up and was shocked to see a man he didn't recognize twisting Dudley's wrist. Dudley whimpered in pain as he collapsed to his knees the man standing over him a angry snarl etched on his face. It was than that Harry saw the man's eyes, he was shocked to find them the most brilliant shade of amber he had ever seen.

Harry took that moment to take in the rest of the stranger's appearance. He had a pale face with a few wrinkles mixed in with the scars that cut across it. His hair was light brown, with a few strands of grey, and hung loosely around his head. A small thin mustache also stretched above his lips, but it was almost too faint to see. His clothing was rather shabby and had multiple patches on it, but to make it even weirder, he was wearing what appeared to be robes.

“Assaulting another child is something bullies do,” growled out the man before he said, “But no one harms Jame's son well I am around.”

Harry's eyes flew wide open, James son, his father's name was James. Had this man known his father? Or was something else going on that he didn't understand? But Harry had no more time to ponder the situation as Uncle Vernon rushed over after hearing his son's whimpers. He took one look at the situation and swung a large beefy fist at Harry's rescuer.

Harry was shocked as the stranger seemed to slide around the punch, than the next second Uncle Vernon had crumpled to the ground. Faster than Harry could follow the stranger had slammed his fist into his Uncle's stomach, and it looked like it was quite effective. The stranger looked up and his eyes widened as he spotted Aunt Petunia.

“Petunia, I never thought Dumbledore would allow Harry to stay with you,” the stranger said a growl spilling through his voice.

“We didn't want him, but that freak gave us no choice!” hollered Petunia

“I see,” said the stranger before smiling, “Than Harry is coming with me, I need simply for you to turn his custody to me.”

Petunia's eyes widened and she reached into her bag, seconds later a bundle of papers were handed to the stranger. Who if what Harry was seeing right, looked incredibly shocked. Harry had many years of reading people's emotions, it was he he had learned to survive at Privet Drive.

“You just carry guardianship papers around with you?” questioned the stranger his voice surprised.

“Of course, we've been trying to get ride of him forever, but this is the first time the papers have actually been able to be given to someone, normally they stick to my hand,” answered Petunia her face showing a small amount of shock.

The stranger nodded and pulled a pen out of his robe, seconds later the papers were signed. Petunia nodded happily and spun around walking over to Harry. He bent down in front of Harry and smiled at him gently. Harry tried his best to smile back at him, but found the feeling of his messy diaper made it impossible. No matter how happy he was at the moment, his messy diaper made him unable to smile.

“What do you say about heading home, we should stop and pick up your stuff first though,” said the stranger his voice much more friendly and warm than it had been with Petunia.

“I...a...all...all I...all I have is what...wha...what I'm,” stuttered Harry unable to form a complete sentence.

The stranger growled his eyes flashing before he nodded, “Than we should at least stop at a store for some more diapers first,” he said knowingly.

Harry blushed brightly and looked down at the ground, tears slowly started to leak from his eyes. The stranger moved forward pulled Harry off the ground and into his arms. Harry gasped softly in surprise as the man, who looked old and weak, effortlessly held him in his arms like a small child.

“Don't cry Harry, you wearing diapers dosen't bother me, lets get some diapers, than get you home so you can have a fresh diaper,” said the man soothingly.

“Home,” whispered Harry quietly.

“Yes home, you'll be safe with me Harry, I promise I would let you go,” said the stranger his voice carrying his deep love and affection.

“I trust you sir,” said Harry quietly as he snuggled himself into the man's warm arms. He couldn't believe how safe and comforted he felt, this feeling it was so strange to him. Yet at the same time it felt so right, so natural...he didn't know if he would want to let go.

“I won't fail your trust Harry,” said the stranger before a small smile broke out across his face, “And my name is Remus.”

/ / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / / /

Author Note: I know many of you will have noticed the differences between this and the old version. That is because I'm changing how the storyline was unfolding, Azrey will still appear and many things will remain as I had them written. But than again many things are going to change, I hope it's okay.