Atrum Venum

By: xxlostdreamerxz

Summary: AU. How would the dark heir go about conquering the world? What could stand in his way?

Dark Beginnings

Number 4 Privet Drive was but an ordinary house in an ordinary neighborhood, centered within the sprawls of suburbia. With its immaculate lawn and perfectly pruned hedges, the house appeared to sparkle with a sort of inner light. But alas, appearances are deceiving, for within a house that bespoke of order and conformity, lived a very strange lad.

He had dark, messy black hair that refused to lie flat, despite everything his relations had tried, and a pair of the most remarkable emerald green eyes. When he had been younger, random women had often come over and croon about how ‘adorable’ and ‘sweet’ he was…or at least they had, until they received a dose of his frigid stare. He did not have the eyes of a child. His were bitter and filled with consuming darkness. His…were the eyes of a demon. And with that, people had learned to give him his space. They had chosen to heed their instincts and avoid a seven year old child.

That is, until today.

After trying to raise the abnormal spawn of her freakish sister for seven long years, Petunia’s patience had finally snapped. For the past few weeks she had been hearing nothing but idle gossip from her friends about how…peculiar her nephew was and how he seemed far too old for his age. Enough was enough! So to get rid of the lad, she had taken up a new hobby…bird-watching.

She knew that the freaks tend to use owls and other avian to deliver letters. So all that she needed to do was pinpoint the nearest freak and have him or her deliver a letter to the idiot who had deigned to leave her bloody sister’s baby on her doorstep. She might hate her nephew, but she had enough sense to know that even he wouldn’t accept being tossed out of her house. She shivered in fear as an image of his cold, icy eyes flickered in her mind’s eye.

Yes. She’d get someone to collect the boy. And then once they did, she’d officially wash her hands of him. Completely.

It had taken a few weeks of hard work before she had spotted an owl during the day. To her upmost surprise, the owl had taken residence at Miss. Fig’s house. Petunia’s mouth twisted into a disgusted frown. And to think, she had left her once left her poor Dudders in that freak’s care. Goodness knows what she might have done to him.

So with single-minded determination, Petunia marched towards her neighbor’s house, intent on demanding some concessions. Harry Potter was moving out today one way or another.

Good Riddance!

Ignorant of his aunt’s plans, Harry had taken to wandering about the neighborhood while plotting his revenge. It had been seven long years since he had entered this realm and possessed his other self’s body. And while he had, indeed, considered ridding himself of his so called extended ‘family,’ he had held back...

After all, he needed information before he could fully plan his take over.

In his world, his parents had never been attacked by the Dark Lord. They had successfully hidden under the Fidelius charm and their keeper, Sirius Black had been captured and…exterminated. However, his ‘godfather’ managed to keep the location of Potter Manor a secret to his death and thus, he and his parents had survived. They had raised him, as their pride and joy, for three whole years before it had emerged.

His dark power.

He had still been a child then, completely ignorant about the power that was steadily growing inside of him. His parents had hated him for it, had hated him for something he couldn’t control. They had tried to beat the darkness out of him. They had tried to spoil him. They tried everything under the sun to make their son into someone that he was not. And in the end, if they were brave enough to admit, they were the ones that had truly made him into the monster that he was.

The only one who had truly loved him…had been a family friend.

Albus Dumbledore, the relatively unknown brother of the famous Alberforth Dumbledore. The red-head had, upon seeing Lily and James’ neglect, taken it upon himself to care for the child. He had played with him, sung him to sleep, read fairy tales to him late into the night. Albus was more than just a friend, he was a father in almost everything but name.

Well, that is, until he started to walk down the dark path…when he began to stray from the Light and the one man who had every cared about him. He had grown cynical with the Light. He had seen so much darkness hidden beneath the glossy surface of “good” and had begun to study the darker arts. And once he turned eight, he’d been captured by the Dark Lord and offered the position as heir. He didn’t understand why Voldemort had chosen him. He did not know…and every time he asked, the Dark Lord would simply respond “because you’re strong.” In the end, he had chosen power and prestige over familial love. The Dark Lord was his idol now. Not Albus. No more.

Harry shook his head slightly to clear his thoughts.

He didn’t understand how things could be so different here. He did not understand why the Dark Lord had targeted him. He didn’t understand how he had somehow bounced off a killing curse. He didn’t understand how and why a man, especially one that he had once looked up to, had allowed him to be raised by a bunch of monsters.

He wanted answers.

But in order to receive them, he knew that he needed to play his part well. He needed to appear as nothing more than a seven year old muggle raised wizard. He need to appear ‘Light’ and innocently curious about the world.

He knew he had done a rather shity job acting around the Muggles, but the truth was…they’re unimportant in the long run. If one of them got too curious or far too inclined to gossip, well…he’d quietly dispose of them.

After all, who cared about trash anyways?

Albus Dumbledore frowned in distaste as he read the hastily penned letter from Arabella. He twiddled with his half-moon glasses as he attempted once again to sooth his anger. Goodness knows how a woman could say such horrible things about her own nephew! Especially given that she had raised said child from the tender age of one.

Perhaps Minerva had been correct?

Perhaps Harry Potter should not have been left with his Muggle relatives?

Dumbledore shook his head as he walked over to his fireplace and grabbed a handful of Floo Powder. With a fiercely determined glint in his eyes, he shouted “Privet Drive.” He needed to investigate this situation in person. He needed to see whether he had made a mistake.

Dumbledore smiled slightly as the flames swallowed him whole. And besides, even if Arabella’s report had been slightly exaggerated, he could at least check up and see how little Harry was doing…