Writer's note: This story was inspired by the TV show: Dexter and based on J.K Rowling's Harry Potter Universe. Including "The Tales of Beetle the Bard." This story will explore much of the unexplored Harry Potter canon world that has been expanded via Pottermore. The only OC character will be Harry Potter's younger sister (oh and some werewolves). All other characters are from canon. You just might not have heard of them and where I know it is tempting to skip the parts that are not Harry, please don't or you will be lost.

Please, noted that the start of this story is focused on creating a universe where Harry will become dark. All the sections at the beginning have a reason and generally show Harry. He starts out as an eight year old child and will become a major player around chapter 3.

I could not have reached this point without the help of Asylum94, ValwithV, and LucyTheBucktoothTiger. Thank you all so much! I am so very grateful for being part of such a warm and welcoming writing community. Thank you, Asylum94 for mentoring me these last six months and basically teaching me proper English; thank you, ValwithV for cheering me on this last year and for being the best writing buddy someone could ever ask for; thank you, LucyTheBucktoothTiger for showing me the finer methods of writing mechanics, especially where horror is concerned. You all are so amazing!

Rated M for the following: Murder, torture, blood, gore, child abuse, and intense violence.

Chapter One: An autumn blazed maple

Peter Pettigrew sorted through the mountain of paperwork on his desk. In the large pile, the page he sought remained elusive. His forehead wrinkled with worry as he glanced at his watch. He reached for the file at the top, stretching his fingers as he tried not to stand on the tips of his toes. Arms straining and sweat beading, he heard someone walk into his small cubicle.

A thick folder was thrown on top of his hands, causing him to lose his balance. He fell back into his chair as papers crashed around him. Sharply he turned to look up at the man towering next to his desk. Alastor Moody stood scowling back. Peter tried to ignore the sensation of his skin crawling as Mad-eye Moody narrowed his magical eye, observing his every movement.

"Can I help you?" Peter bit out.

"I need that paperwork filled out and on my desk by tomorrow morning. That's not gonna be a problem, is it?"

"No, sir. I'll do it before I go home."

"Well, what are you waiting for?"

Frowning but still silent, Peter bent down towards the ground and made his second attempt to retrieve the papers. He wrinkled his pointed nose as he stretched under his desk and grabbed them. Moody carefully watched him.

"I'll start on this right away." Peter smiled up at Moody, his face completely void of the resentment he harbored. He still was not sure why out of all the aurors and Order members, Moody was the only one who openly loathed him.

"Let me know if you can't reach something." Moody growled as he left Peter's small cubicle.

Peter straightened his back, grabbed a sharpened quill from his holder and dug it into the parchment. He scribbled random nonsense trying to clear his head. Moody frustrated him on a daily basis. It helped that he had learned from an early age not to stand against stronger men.

It was a skill he had gained as a child by watching his mother fall for the same lies over and over. She trusted too easily, loved to shamelessly, and because of this flaw, he had been born a bastard. His mother was foolish and weak-minded, she could not see how the world really worked. He grew up watching his mother repeatedly attempt to regain their family's honor only to sink deeper into shame. But he knew the truth.

Only the strongest survived.

Long before he attended Hogwarts, he vowed to never be attached to lesser men. He rubbed back his mousy brown hair, staring at the photo of his friends. Even in his first hours at Hogwarts he had immediately been drawn to James and Sirius. They had sauntered into Hogwarts with their shoulders squared, smirks full of confidence.

Peter knew from the start that he would win his place beside them. It had taken time, groveling, worshipping, and unquestioning loyalty. During his entire time at Hogwarts, they never once disappointed him. He was a knight beside lords and he had been happy. Even when his new found protectors befriended the werewolf, they found a way to keep Remus' strength in check with minimal risk to the group. While also gaining them a powerful ability, the power to transform into an Animagus. He found peace at Hogwarts, something he had never known before.

But then came the war.

Even in his time at Hogwarts he heard whispers of the war. After they had all graduated, James and Sirius went off to Auror training, and he made sure to follow. He found employment as a clerk in a nice safe office at the Auror department. He had successfully kept his protection close and unwavering. However, his certainty faltered as the months passed. Daily he watched Auror after Auror return maimed, dead or crippled for life.

Soon after they'd left school, he and his friends had joined the Order. In his workplace Peter was surrounded by his people. They were everywhere and their clear presence made him feel better. Peter had worked beside many Aurors these last few years but the two that stood out in his mind the most were James Potter and Frank Longbottom. Both were his age but still more powerful than he had ever dreamed of becoming. Thankfully, he had never witnessed their skills in battle, the pictures and reports were enough to put him in awe.

It wasn't until their sons were born and they were put on the Dark Lord's hit list, that doubts turned to certainty. They could not protect him. The next seven years Peter watched as the Order began to struggle against the Dark Lord's forces. He began to dream of familiar dead faces. But what got to Peter the most was the overbearing exhaustion painted on every Auror and member of the Orders' face. Their hopes, their lives slowly fading.

How could his friends survive this war? A war they were clearing losing.

The smell of burning flesh and the sound of piercing screams jolted him from his thoughts. Dread pooled into his stomach, his friend's voice filtering through the pained moans. He rushed around the corner, panic pulsing his heart. Outside of his cubicle the floo flared to life, opening a doorway as a group of Aurors came through, retreating from the enemy.

He watched James drag Sirius from the fireplace, Sirius' sagging form covered in black oozing burns. Frozen with fear and denial, James screamed at him to find a healer. Sickened, Peter made a decision.

He was not safe anymore...

Peter sat at a wooden table, staring nervously ahead at Lily and James Potter. They had invited him to their home last minute saying they needed to speak with him. He fidgeted in his seat as he watched the Potters' cat eye him from the kitchen doorway with a hungry gleam in its eyes. He never understood why Lily insisted on getting a bloody cat. Why not a dog? Sirius would have enjoyed another canine to romp around with. He frowned at the thought of his friend.

It had been over a year since Sirius had come back covered in burns and not even a week ago Sirius had been injured again! He would never forget the smell of intestines hanging from his friend's stomach. The entrails expelling curse had put Sirius into St Mungo's Hospital for two weeks. Sirius had been continually targeted during the Death Eater raids due to the suspicion that he might be the Potters' Secret Keeper, knowing that if the Secret Keeper died, everyone that he had told would then have the ability to whisper their homes whereabouts. Thus significantly weakening the Potter's protection. The memory turned his belly and caused his palms to become clammy. Sirius would be released soon but it did not make Peter feel any better, it only reminded him that he was left unprotected and weak.

Peter had spent the last year trying to find an artifact, a spell or any information to trade for Voldemort's protection but Dumbledore never trusted him with any sensitive information due to his lack of occlumency skills and dueling capabilities, the old wizard knew that he was weak.

Lily stood across the room stirring a spoonful of honey into a cup of tea. James sat across him at the opposite end of the spacious table tapping his fingers against the wood and adjusting his circular glasses.

"Peter, we've been friends for a long time and so I was hoping I could ask you a question."

Peter stared at James. Confusion and caution swirled in his stomach. James took his silence as a sign to continue.

"You've changed. I can't remember the last time you voiced your worries of the war." James looked right into his eyes. Peter wondered if he suspected something.

"The Order gives me courage." He replied, putting on his best Gryffindor smile. James ruffled his classic Potter hair, laughing lightly.

"That's good to hear." James paused and coughed, clearing his throat. "It's just...You really have been remarkable lately." James started. Peter's face began to hurt as he continued to force a smile on his face, struggling with the rising panic that threatened to destroy his mask.

"Your bravery gives me strength."

James flashed him a wide smile, basking in his compliment.

"I'm happy to help." James stated before his smile faltered. "I just wish I could help Sirius as well. All of these attacks have worn on him. I just wish there was a way to lessen the burden." James leaned forward, a hopeful gleam in his eyes.

Peter tried his hardest to remain calm but a battle began to rage in his mind. Surely, James was not hinting about what he thought he was.

"I'm not sure I follow."

"I mean... Do you think you could help us? Help Sirius? Could you take that weight off of his shoulders?"

Peter's heart fluttered. He knew this was his chance, but all he noticed was the guilt churning in his stomach. The memories of his childhood flashed across his mind before the image of his mother came forward. He brutally brushed his thoughts away and when they finally settled, only one thought keep his mind blank.

Only the strongest survives.

"Yes, I think I can."

He had his gift to present to the dark lord. He would not be broken like his pathetic mother.

Lily sat outside in the gardens of Godric's Hollow, watching Harry and Alice's son zoom around on their toy brooms. She hummed a soft melody as she cut the top of a flowering foxglove. With expert movements, she removed the purple blossoms and tossed them into a wicker basket at her side. Usually she only harvested foxglove bells for her heart stroke prevention potions but today she was humoring her husband, who had requested a batch of Pompion Potions to prank his fellow Aurors. While she could understand that the department needed a little holiday cheer, she could not help but worry about the reaction of her husband's boss, Rufus Scrimgeour. He would not be pleased when the whole department suddenly sprouted pumpkin heads.

Her musing was interrupted by a set of small hands pulling at her robes.

"Mummy, can you play with me?" Her youngest child smiled up at her.

Lily stood up, pulled off her gloves, and brought her daughter into her arms. She balanced her on one hip as she bent down to grab the wicker basket. Pulling out a purple flower, she held it up for her daughter.

"Rosie, can you eat foxgloves?" The corners of her eyes crinkled with amusement as she clearly faked her ignorance.

Rose glanced at the harvested flower, deep in thought before she shouted. "No, mummy. That's a bad plant!"

Lily gave her daughter a wide grin. "Why?"

"You can get a tummy ache if you eat it." Rose lectured.

"Oh now I remember!" Lily winked at her daughter as she twirled the purple blossom between her fingers and pulled it from its stem. "But it's still pretty, huh?" Lily placed the flower behind her daughter's ear, the purple hue complementing her auburn hair. Rose nodded back.

Lily was proud of the amount of knowledge she had instilled into her children. While she never let her children wander through the more dangerous sections of her gardens alone, she actively tried to teach them about the wide variety of poisonous and dangerous plants which grew there. It was sometimes frustrating that her potions work affected her children's lives but she believed the whole experience beneficial to them. They got plenty of time playing under the sun and she was sure they would be outstanding in Herbology and Potions.

Lily walked towards the small cottage. Sitting at the patio table, Alice Longbottom sipped from a teacup.

Once Lily reached the patio, she set her daughter down.

"Rosie, Dolly wants a cup of tea." Lily motioned her towards the toys. Rose gave her a toothy grin before walking to the left, where many cooking herbs were planted. Lily pulled the metal chair across the cobblestone and sat across from Alice.

"Finally done working for once, huh?" Alice winked.

"Oh stop. You know the Order is always low on some kind of potion." Lily waved her hand dismissively.

"You should rest every once in a while. Doesn't Dumbledore have a backup potions maker?"

Lily frowned as she thought of her first best friend.

"Yes, but I couldn't bother him with it. That man already does enough for the Order." She felt her heart clench as she forced the thoughts of the man who had unknowingly destroyed her life from her mind. Alice gave her a look before turning towards their children.

An late autumn wind blew across the trees, shaking the thick branches, loosening the golden maple seeds and gliding them through the air like winged snitches. Harry and Neville shot across the yard attempting to grasp them. Alice and Lily shared a silent smile.

As the silence stretched between them, Lily felt a growing sense of peace. Alice Longbottom was not like her others friends. They had shared so much, from their first night sleeping at Hogwarts to gushing about their first loves. Alice had walked alongside her as their bellies rounded with pregnancy. She had been there the night Dumbledore shared the prophecy that caused them to go into hiding. She was the only one who truly understood what it was like to be a prisoner in one's own home, to be disconnected from their own society. She cherished their friendship, even though Alice nagged her far too often about working.

Lily honestly did not mind the extra work, the extra time in the open air. It was her way of fighting the war. She had to help.

The silence was broken by a sudden loud thump, drawing her attention upwards. Lily's eyes widened as she saw her son's feet sticking out of a wiggenbush. Neville hurried off his toy broom, running to help her son. Lily laughed despite the situation. She remembered when Harry was younger and how much he had worried her. Over the years and after hundreds of daredevil stunts, she had learned to accept that boys would be boys, especially Potter boys.

Lily had been so excited to find out her second child was a girl but fate found it fitting that her daughter only inherited her physical features and all of James' personality. She briefly turned towards her daughter, who was playing tea party with her dolly. Lily did a double take, narrowing in on the pulled up peppermint plants that now sat in Rose's tea cup. She burst into laughter. And to think she had once thought that a daughter would be easier than another son.

Unworried, Lily stood up and slowly made her way over to Harry. Her son was still struggling, head first in the bushes. She pulled him out and began to check for injuries.

"Where does it hurt? Do I need to get my kit?" Once she was sure nothing was broken, Lily gently set him back on his feet. With dirt covered hands, Harry rubbed the back of his head with a sheepish grin. Lily frowned when she spotted a small scrape on his cheek, pulling him into a tight hug she tried to wipe a smug of dirt from his forehead.

"Why couldn't you have been a bookworm, like me?!"

"Mum, it was an accident. There was this huge bird and..." Harry continued with his story, clearly trying to talk his way out of a lecture on flying safety.

"You're going to give Minerva a run for her money." Lily laughed, her son trying to wiggle out of her hug, only causing her to pull him tighter as she laid a soft kiss on his forehead before she begrudgingly let go. She watched Harry race over to his broom, checking it for damage.

Her children's loving faces distracted her from the war and at times almost made her forget that her world was falling apart. Voldemort had been perplexingly inactive the last year. Until the previous week, they had not lost anyone in months.

Marlene Mckinnon's death had been silently creeping at the edge of her thoughts but neither Alice nor she voiced their shared sorrow.

She was still having a hard time accepting that her friend was dead. The day Sirius had delivered the news of Marlene's death, she had cried the entire night. Marlene's husband, her children, all tortured and brutally tore apart. The wails of Marlene's youngest sister, the only surviving Mckinnon ringing in her head, invading her very dreams.

Lily made her way back to the patio. Alice sat down across from her looking nervous.

"Goodness, your son is a handful. Neville has his moments but he's a bit more reserved like his Father." Lily knew Alice was trying to make her smile but all she could picture were the pale faces of the Mckinnons staring up at her from the coffins. Alice rubbed her hands down her legs anxiously.

"How are you handling the news?" Alice's warm eyes stared at her with concern. "You were always closer to Marlene than Frank and I were."

Lily sat and remembered the hard nights after a battle turned sour. Before her isolation in Godric's Hollow she had gone out for drinks with Alice and Marlene. Marlene had always been so spunky and sure of herself, how could she be dead? Lily knew the witch would be locked in a compartment of her memory forever.

Lily stared out at Harry, who was already zooming across the lawn and wondered if she would ever feel safe again.

"I'll get through it."

At the edge of Godric's Hollow, inside thick brick walls, on the second floor, Lily chased her children through the toy covered room. It was an hour past bedtime, excitement from the Halloween party still lingered.

"Rose, please stop trying to change your brother's costume pink!" Lily sighed. Her youngest chased Harry through the room, still attempting to hit him with her enchanted pixie stick. Rose's neon blue pixie suit glittered as she swung, only adding to her mischievous appearance.

"Mum, Rose won't stop hitting me!" Harry yelled as he climbed up onto his bed. Lily caught her wild child and distracted her with their nightly ritual, which Lily had dubbed The Pants Dance. Wrestling her daughter to the bed, Lily attempted to dodge Rose's kangaroo kicks, and tickled her until she finally submitted to being changed.

After their teeth were brushed and their pajamas were buttoned Lily clapped her hands together, drawing the attention of her children.

"Who wants a bedtime story?"

Rose jumped up and down as Harry rushed to pull on his soft slippers.

"Me, me, me, me," Rose chanted.

Ushering them towards the hall, she lead them downstairs. Standing at the end of the wooden staircase, she glanced briefly at the front door. The Order had called her husband in only moments earlier, due to possible Death Eater activity. Thankfully, they had not called James in during the party but she still had been left alone to coax her sugar filled children to bed. Turning right, she walked into the living room.

Hanging in front of large windows, maroon curtains reflected soft flames, the fireplace casting the room in a warm glow. The smell of ink and paper mingled with the earthy aroma of recently harvested autumn roots. Lily's fingers delicately danced across rows of books, pondering over the endless choices that lined the walls.

"What story should I read tonight?"

"Can you read the story about the three brothers?"

Lily raised her eyebrow and looked down at her son. "That's not really a bedtime story."

"But it's Halloween! Please," Harry pleaded.

With a pointed smile Lily nodded and pulled an ancient tome from the shelf. Dust coated most of the books in her home but not this one. It was a favorite in her household and had clear signs of wear. She recalled James telling her that it had been in his family for generations and was rumored to be one of the first editions. Lily leaned back into her living room sofa, sinking comfortably into its cushions. Harry and Rose cuddled against her sides as she read them a story from The Tales of Beedle the Bard.

Weariness washed over her. She rubbed her eyes, the dark circles below only sinking deeper into her skull each day. Voldemort had been unusually active since Marlene's death and the stress of war kept her up at night. She would toss and turn so much in her sleep that the very act of resting caused her stress. She was so sick of struggling; so tired of war.

Lily continued the story. "They were halfway across the bridge when they found their path blocked by a hooded figure, and it was Death. He was angry that he had been cheated out of three new victims, for travelers usually drowned in the river. But Death was cunning. He pretended to congratulate the three brothers upon their magic, and said that each had earned a prize for being clever enough to evade him."

In hush tones her voice carried through the room, triggering their young faces to droop against her shoulders and yawns to escape rose coloured lips. She smiled down at them, soaking in the memory, knowing it would help fuel her spirit in the future. Her aching body was hard to ignore, but the importance of her work gave her strength. She knew her potions were helping The Order's cause. Even though she was unable to leave her home often, she would be damned before she sat around doing nothing. As she felt her muscles twitch and her back ache, fatigue consumed her but she continued on.

Pulling her fingers through Harry's unruly hair, she straightened it like only a mother could, ignoring the glare Harry shot up at her.

"Mum, stop it!"

Lily rolled her eyes and continued to stroke it. Harry had always been such a sweet child, energetic and strong-willed but always gentle. She remembered the first time Harry had held his little sister when he was three years old. He had stared at Rose with a fearful expression. She had assumed his fear was due to the thought of sharing his parents but later she had discovered that he had been terrified of breaking her.

Lily turned another page of The Tales of Beedle the Bard, and began reading the next story. Dark hair draped across tired eyes, their bodies leaned more heavily into hers.

While reading Bibbitty Rabbitty, a sudden rush of static tickled down her spine. She paused. Her eyebrow furrowed as she tried to recall the last time Dumbledore had strengthened the wards. Certainly Dumbledore would have mentioned coming over. A small burst of light filtered across the covered windows. Lily pursed her lips together.

Well, Dumbledore did have his eccentric moments.

"One second, sweethearts. Mummy needs to check something out."

Her children whined and begged her not to stop the story, their energy magically restoring. She bit her tongue. Dumbledore better have a good excuse to be messing with the wards.

"I promise it will not take long." She ruffled her children's hair and gently maneuvered around them.

Crossing the living room, she pulled back the curtains, glancing outside her window, expecting to spot Dumbledore's flamboyant robes. But there were no purple robes or twinkling eyes. She pulled her hands to her mouth, trying to silence an escaping gasp. Horror flooded her senses as she stood frozen. The Dark Mark cast an eerie glow throughout the sky. Its large snake twisted and turned into the eye sockets of its skull, the moonlight emphasizing it from behind.

Flashes of black sped through the sky as Death Eaters descended to the ground. Bone white masks contrasted in the darkness with an unearthly luminescence. Her hands lowered to her neck as breath tightened in her throat, fear widening her eyes.

"Mummy..." Rose whispered, breaking Lily from her terror.

With a pounding heart, she pushed away from the window and rushed towards the innocent faces which now engulfed her vision.

She stared down, clear green eyes shined back at her. She inhaled a deep breath and willed her strength back into her body as she exhaled her nervousness. She could not falter. She had to act. She could not fail her children.

Lily immediately grabbed both of their hands.

"Mummy, what's going on?" Harry wiggled in her grip.

"Don't worry dear, we are just going to go visit Sirius. I forgot something at the party." She tried not to show the fear in her eyes as she looked at Harry.

She evened her breath and clearly visualized Sirius' flat before she attempted to do an emergency apparation. But her spell only fizzled out. Chills rose up her arms as she came to the sickly realization that an Anti-Disapparition jinx had been cast over her home.


She couldn't run. She would have to fight until the Order came. As she turned to retreat up the stairs, the front door knob began to rattle. She climbed the staircase; every creaky step sounded like an explosion in her attentive ears. At the top of the stairs, a blast of smoke and debris caused her to stumble. Lily tried to block her children from the rubble as she hit the ground, their cries echoing in the darkness.

"Shhh... shhh... Mummy's here. It's gonna be okay." She whispered again and again. Smoke burned her eyes as she tried to collect herself from the ground. All she had to do was make it ten more steps. She had to make it to the nursery and activate the panic room wards.

Taunting laughter echoed up the stairs. Trembling, she dropped Harry's hand and stretched her fingers toward the door. The cold silver handle was a warm welcome as she turned the knob and rushed inside.

Reaching into her robes she felt the familiar smooth wood as she prepared her mind to activate the spell. The pale yellow walls brightened for a second, signaling that the wards had started.

With wand in hand, she turned and kneeled in front of her son. She stroked tears from his stained cheeks.

"Harry, listen to me. You must take care of Rose, while I call for help."

Harry nodded sharply back, hiccuping, he took his sister's hand and pulled her to the bed.

Standing up Lily took a large breath and imagined Harry's bubbling laughter. She recalled the memory of James chasing Rose throughout the gardens, sunlight dancing off their eyes. Her son's burst of glee as Rose switched directions and attempted to tackle James to the ground. The curve of her husband's lips as he smiled, James twirling their daughter in the blue covered sky.

"Expecto Patronum" Lily voiced. A fully-formed bright-white, translucent doe sprung from her wand.

"Take this message to Order's headquarters. Death Eaters have attacked Godric's hollow. I'm trying to reinforce the wards but I don't know how long they will hold. Please help." The luminous doe nodded before it galloped through the wall leaving a trail of silver glow.

Turning back around, she squeezed between her children, fixated on the doorway she wrapped her arms around them.

Gripping her wand tightly, she began to chant the incantation that would strengthen the nursery's wards, pushing every ounce of her energy into them.

"Mummy, is Daddy coming?" Rose stared up at her with wide eyes.

She kissed the top of her daughters head and gently stroked her hair.

"Yes, help is coming. They're coming."

Harry jerked at her side as the walls began to shake. Lily bit her lip, trying to ignore the pulsing pain in her hand every time the intruders outside blasted against the door. Soft white light glowed at the tip of her wand, flickering every time fervent magic crashed against her spell.

Lily's heart cracked as small hands clutched her robes tightly, her children trembling against the thick fabric. Silent tears rolled down Lily's face as she tried to hold the image of her happy family but the picture cracked and shattered as a large burst of magic rammed down upon her spell, ripping the wand from her hand, throwing it several feet away.

The nursery door creaked open. Cloaked in shadows, Voldemort sauntered forward, with pale lips stretched wide. His dark eyes lacked elliptical pupils, but they still reminded her of a basilisk's gaze, keen with venomous intent and capable of freezing her in terror.

It was as if she were drowning in her own body as it revolted against her control. Her breath quickened, tears blurring her vision. The memory of Marlene's children staring up at her from their child sized coffins flashing across her mind. Their sweet smiles, frozen like clay in deaths icy grip, their eyes forever shut.

A wave of nausea rolled through her stomach as it threatened to empty. Blocking her children from his view, she regained her control and faced Voldemort with quiet resolve.

"Stand aside woman. We both know why I'm here." Voldemort's words cut through her like ice.

A silent sob built in her throat. Wandless and clearly defeated, Lily kneeled in front of Voldemort, pleading for her children's lives. Praying that it might give the Order more time.

"Please, not my children... don't hurt them. Take me, kill me instead -"

"This is my last warning -" Voldemort's voice empty of empathy.

"No! Please ... have mercy ... Don't hurt them. Please... I'll do anything..."

Voldemort's eyes glowed with disgust before a smirk formed on his thin lips. Lily's heart pounded against her chest.

"You know Severus begged me to spare you, I have given you your chance, now I will teach our dear Severus why we do not associate with mudbloods. Sectumsempra." A flash of light sprung from his wand. She did not move, in fear of it hitting her children, who stood behind her.

A sharp intense pain slashed through her. Vision darkening, she looked down at her arms and chest, deep cuts opened across her flesh. Her own blood sprayed across her face and poured down her belly. Staggering backwards, she tried to grab the edge of the bed where Harry and Rose sat, only to collapse onto the carpeted floor. She forced her eyes to open one last time, to see wide terrified eyes looking down at her. Her own mutilated body reflected back from their gazes.

Her last thoughts continued cyclically as a scream sounded unwillingly from her lips, No! Please ... have mercy ... Don't hurt them. Please — I'll do anything...

Screams were pulled from her throat as pain devoured her body, her mind slowly failing… she did not see nor hear the killing curse as it soared down at her.

Voldemort glided past her lifeless form.

Harry watched as his mother fell to the ground, blood spattering across his face. He stood frozen in terror before his mother's screams registered in his mind. He reached out to her. Right as he was inches from touching her face, a flash of blinding green light crashed into her unsteady form. The screams fell silent. His mother stilled.

Harry's small trembling fingers grabbed at her face. Dull green eyes looked back at him. He tried to shake her, to wake her.


On his knees, in front of his mother's fallen figure, a smell radiated in the air, reminiscent of the bronze coins that his parents used to buy him candies with as warmth crept through his pajama pants. He kept trying to look at his mother but his brain refused to see what was in front of him. He just continued to shake his mother as thick warm fluid soaked his clothes and pooled around them.

"Get up, Mum. Please… get up." Shivers trembled through his small frame, fear gripping his heart as his sister screamed.

Harry felt anger start to fill his stomach like hot lava as well as a cold fear seep into his bones. He stood up slowly and turned to the man who stood tall, grinning down at his sister's heart clenching cries.

"Leave my family alone!" Harry screamed, his voice thick with emotion.

The lights began to flicker and the window panels started to vibrate with his rage. The man looked away from him and at the lights above.

Harry clenched his hands into fists. A cold chill swept across his skin like marching ants, crawling across his body despite the warm liquid pooling around him.

"Look at me!" Harry yelled. "Don't ignore me! What did you do to my mother!?"

The man's dark eyes stared back, curiosity filling them. He seemed thoughtful for a moment before he chuckled.

"Hmmm... What a waste of raw potential." The man raised his wand. "Avada Kedavra"

Jerking back, Harry tried to dodge the blinding green light. But it rushed towards him, as though a vast, invisible monster was soaring through the air. The spell hit him with more might than he had ever felt, slamming him hard onto the floor. The sensation of marching ants intensified, stinging his skin like frost bite. He struggled, trying desperately to escape the monster's hold. But it only slammed him into the ground, over and over.

His energy drained from his body, his heartbeat slowing as the monster tried to devour him whole. Its icy grip burned at his lungs, when a sharp pain intensified at his forehead. He pressed his face against the hard floors, attempting to lessen the pain as the monster's claws cut sharp into his flesh, carving a lightning bolt into his skin. Harry's chest rose and his hands reached for his face as he scratched at his forehead. Screams erupted from his lips, before a numbing darkness consumed him.

His eyes glazed over, helpless and broken he remained motionless on the floor. He did not hear nor notice the door open or see the pair of black eyes as they gazed inside.

One month later...

The autumn air held the scent of wildflowers, mingled with the scent of pine resin. Surrounded by vibrant bursts of greenery, Harry kneeled in front of his mother's garden, his head cocked slightly to the side. He observed a black beetle as it encroached upon an earthworm.

The beetle's chitin shell gleamed in the morning sunlight, glistening like a precious jewel. With hardened tooth-like pincers the beetle crushed its prey and slowly devoured the earthworm whole. Harry licked at his lower lip with fascination, unware of his hand as it instinctively crept forward. The wind rustled through the trees shaking the remaining leaves on the thick branches. A soft smile spread across Harry's face. He closed his eyes and imagined the sensation of the beetle squirming against the palm of his tightening fist, the sound of it crunching.

Clouds stretched across the sky, casting dark shadows over the land. The word "Monster" echoed throughout his head.

Is that what he was? A monster... His dark passenger certainly liked to tell him so.

Oh yes... his dark passenger loved to tell him that he was special, that he was made for greatness but somehow these comments only made him feel weak and ashamed. It would murmur honeyed words and sickening flattery, always choosing to whisper its praise in the moments where he lost his self-control. When resounding darkness would snake through his mind, dulling his sense of self, forging his primitive desires into a sharpened blade.

Gardening had always helped with his darker urges to destroy. He loved the adrenaline rush he got as he stabbed his shovel into the earth. The shivers of pleasure that would raise the hairs on his arms as he destroyed the plant life. He loved gripping the intruding weeds as he pulled, ripping up their roots. It exhausted his rage and centered his mind. It made him feel in control.

A cool breeze splashed across his face drawing him from his thoughts. A strengthening wind gathered and rolled across the forest, causing the leaves to chatter loudly and a wind chime to toll. Suspended metal rods hung from an autumn blazed maple. Amongst a crowd of evergreen trees, the maple tree stood alone, a bright flame dying in the oncoming winter.

Harry's vision blurred. Biting his lip, he wondered if the beetle would cry if he squeezed it between his fingers. He shook his head trying to clear his mind but it only caused his glasses to slide. He pushed them back in place and he tried to concentrate on laying the new layer of mulch, but the labor didn't help, it wasn't enough. Hesitantly, he reached out and grabbed the beetle between his fingertips. He watched it wiggle around trying to escape. There were no weeds to pull and no new seedling to protect. Only his self-damning desire. It was not spring and the frozen earth brought only death.

Surrendering to the darkness, he pushed down against the shiny outer shell, crushing it tightly in the palm of his hand. Harry smiled at the feeling of black fluids dribbling between his clenched fingers. He released a long sigh of relief, pleasure coursing through him as he stared down at the broken creature.

The faint sound of hissing tickled at the edge of his hearing. Harry froze in place, pleasure dwindled as it twisted together and melted into his fear and regret. An overwhelming sense of helplessness washed over him. Chilling laughter echoed in his mind, his dark passenger announcing its presence. Harry hastily dropped the beetle's corpse and backed away, attempting to hide his misdeed. The laughter only grew.

"Show me more... Give me more..." It whispered, red eyes glowing with delight. "Let me taste your malice... Let me devour your brutality..."

Harry's heart pounded and his hands trembled. He had killed again. He had invoked its interest once more.

Clenching his stained hands, he tried to square his shoulders.

"I didn't do anything wrong."

It began to cackle as sweat beaded at Harry's forehead.

"It was just a Potion's ingredient." Harry whispered, unease churning in his stomach.

"Of course, a Potion's ingredient. What will you harvessst next? The eyes of a cat, the warm blood of a recently desisted dog…" Hunger filled its voice. "The chilled tears of a mudblood crying out for their mother… Oh yes, I can just see the potential."

Note: Reviews are like the chilled tears of mudbloods. They fuel my evil plot bunnies. ;)