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Summary: Harry's eyes mean something very mysterious and only a sprinkle of wizards know the authentic power the person who inherits them could unleash. But when Harry finds out the genuine truth of who he really is and the amount of power he contains, will the world be hanging at the end of a knife? This takes place after OOP, so spoilers (No Slash!).

Harry the Heir of Darkness By: MotherofDarknes6 A.K.A Potterlover2004

Prologue: Creation had just began to form in the darkness in which only one divine being and four others had the first glance of breath and life before their very eyes. The humans later were created. As the years and milleniums passed the Gods and Goddesses began to give power to every being in the world. Humans were divided and classified into destiny and powers. The prophets had the power of the inner-eye and pure clairvoyance... The witches and wizards had power of both divination, psychic abilities, and the knowledge of the outer field. The "regular" and "mortal" humans were thought by other humans to inherit no absolute power. What no one knew was that they had power, but deeply engulfed within their bodies that to unleash their powers would cause great destruction. Everyone has power and psychic abilities within him or her. Not ironically, nobody had the mind to believe it was what we called "muggles" today that they contain the most power during all of eternity.

Before anything was ever created the Master of Gods, Wulfric, held the key and power to decide fate. His pale white hair was neatly placed on the top of the most ancient face ever known to the gods and goddesses before him. On the top of his long silver hair was a golden light crown that emblazed beautifully and classically with over a billion jewels that is and not known to us humans to this very day. He was a God and a God could do anything he declares. But unfortunately as he was the one that created everything he had also had created evil, because without evil there is no good and vice versa. And so the evil angel had been created without the knowledge that he will be in charge of the under world. Lucifer himself was an angel so beautifully created, but shrewd and evil with eyes made of fire and hair made of the feathers possessed by a black crow. His skin ever so white like the clouds hanging up in the dome of the ocean colored sky. As the Devil began to want to choose his own paths instead of serving the Gods and Goddesses in the Mountains of the Clouds, Wulfric began to know the angel's ambition to conquer the gods and goddesses and make them serve him. But after a thousand years had passed Wulfric began to feel the feelings of the end of his god life. He had to do something faster than lightning and so as he predicted in which he read the stars above, Lucifer had come to claim the throne of the Master of Gods and Goddesses. Wulfric had banished Lucifer into the core of Earth. The core is known to be the hottest part of Earth and so knowing that anger was created in there, Wulfric had promised Lucifer the given new name the Devil, and God of the Under World, or also known as Hell. The Devil in gratitude of powers and a Black Throne had promised not to overcome the lineage of the Master of Gods or Goddesses in return.

A century passed and Wulfric had chosen the next successful Master of Gods and Goddess. He had chosen Mother Nature. The most beautiful Goddess that held many secrets in and on Earth with her nature. She and Wulfric were the only supreme beings that helped create the universe. She had especially done the lands of the Earth. Her love had made the humans still succeed to this day. Her breath was the first breath for every creature on earth. She was Air, Water, Fire, and Earth, the Supreme Mother of Elements. Wulfric on the other hand began to distinctly separate himself from the other gods even though he was the "lame duck" after the Mother of Nature, his daughter had taken throne. Always busy his powers began to fade and he had to briskly choose the next God right after Mother Nature in line to sit on the golden throne North of the blazing star in the Milky Way in which we all know as the Sun.

Feeling exhausted and gaunt, he called upon the forces of evil the Devil himself to hold the key of power and the power to produce an heir and only one. That was his first fallacious error as he had committed in the process of becoming a mortal. The Devil, a god created to live for eternity, had the upper hand and had banish Wulfric from the Mountains of the Clouds as Satan had visited paradise in his black chariot inscript with silver lining of a dark evil spell. With black horses neighing and their hooves made of pure silver, was how the Devil had come to the Mountains of the Clouds.

The Devil had sneered as his mind had a flashback to what had happened years and years ago. He had not checked the recent heir his descendents had produced. But he had been in contacted with only one of his heirs. What was his name again? He asked himself. Ah, yes. Thomas Marvolo Riddle. Haven't spoken with him for what has been what? Fifteen Years Ago. He's not dead or else the other heirs and heiress would have warned me.

The Devil put his fingers straight to hold up his chin as his elbows were against the velvet color of the arms of the throne as he stared at some of his descendants that wandered and tortured the "bad angels" for eternal punishment. Also some of them were out leading the vulnerable into paths of death. There were only three of his heirs that had disgustingly ended up following light magic and died to live as angels in the Mountains of the Clouds.

He had two favorite heirs: Salazar Slytherin and Tom Riddle, also known as Tom Marvolo Riddle. They both had caused destruction and had done excellent jobs to try to kill the "good." Now, the latest he had heard from the wandering prophets that the latest heir was the most powerful of all creatures. Lord Voldemort?

The rumors began to bounce all over the Mountain of the Clouds the same way it had fifteen years ago. Fifteen years ago, it had something to do with a baby boy named Harry James Potter that had defeated Lord Voldemort. His heirs were very uncannily hushed when the boy's name was announced by anyone. It was like they knew something HE did not. But he, the Devil, always had his ways to find things out. Today the rumor was that Lord Voldemort had resurrected from the Dead and had let the world know he had been awaken for a year. The Devil knew that Voldemort had not "resurrected" as they nicely put it, but that he had been merely live for about 1% and dead 99%. The thing was that even though the percentage in which Voldemort was deader than alive could be easily estimated to one hundred percent. But that would be anyone's mistake, because even though the scale had gone over that he was dead, there was still a drop of proportion to prove that he was still alive. Voldemort was a "living spirit" since he was ripped from his body, but not fully of life itself. He was not a ghost since a ghost is just a spirit and their bodies extinct the fact of living. He was more than that, but outstandingly weak.

He must have had found a way to get a body of his own. It was ancient dark magic only known to those who had the tinted aura of knowledge to the Dark Arts. Voldemort had a pure aura of the Dark Arts. His aura was almost as strong as Death, the Grim Reaper, himself. Ah, if only he could contact him. Then maybe he would be able to give him more power and destroy the boy. But before he did that, he felt an unknown force pulling him out of the core, out to the dead of night to vision the stars winking down at him and the waning silver moon with its crescent shape. He had almost reached the sky and had been quickly transported downwards to where there was rich soil to grow the seeds into healthy plants. He went downwards into a deep underground cave in which he saw many men and women engulfed with dark cloaks and covered with silver masks. But he was the Devil. He knew who was in each and every one of them. In the middle of the clan of circle was the man he resembled. Well... the man who resembled him.

Lord Voldemort sat quietly on a wooden chair and on the small table he had placed two long, white, spider-like fingers on the planchette, or the mystifying oracle indicator, on top of an ancient black board with silver letters engraved on them. On the top of the board the word "Ouija Board" glowed eerily into a light blinding green. Lord Voldemort, tall and pale, had his red eyes hidden by his pale eyelids.

"Come to me, Oh great ancestor," Voldemort had began to chant. As he said those words, a mysterious breeze had turned off all the lights in the caves, making the Death Eaters shutter in their disturbing positions as Voldemort looked like he went in a trance-like state without noticing the darkness they were all engulfed with.

Everything went quiet, as the planchette began to move slowly across the board and Lord Voldemort for the first time in the cave opened his eyes snapping the trance-like meditation he was encountering. His gleamy red eyes looked down to see the planchette guiding his fingers to the letters to spell the words: H-E-L-L-O I A-M T-H-E D-E-V-I-L Y-O-U-R T-R-U-E A-N-D F-I-R- S-T A-N-C-E-S-T-O-R.

Voldemort's eyes had the strangest glow as it began to turn into a lighter and brighter color very slowly. The color began with the tiniest tinge of green. It began to invade the red in his eyes into the eyes that haunted Severus Snape every time he scowled at a certain teenaged boy who lost his godfather. To Snape, the boy's father, his dolt like godfather, and his idiotic friends were he, Severus Snape's foes.

I C-O-U-L-D H-E-L-P Y-O-U G-E-T T-H-E P-O-T-T-E-R B-O-Y.

The worthless whimpering bold figure of a small man with watery eyes was supposed to be dead to the whole world. He was Peter Pettigrew. If anything he was always looking for pity, that pitiful ugly Pettigrew. Snape had thought that millions of times, but since he was with the Dark Lord the thought of spying on him was not suppose to go to his mind, incase the Dark Lord had wanted to use Legilimency on him, or had scented a tinge of betrayal in their thoughts.

D-O Y-O-U H-A-V-E A-N H-E-I-R ?

The thought had flabbergasted many of the Death Eaters that all of them had smartly held their gasps and surprise. Severus Snape was in pure shock. Heir? The thought of the dark lord doing it with anyone was revolting, but Dumbledore had always said that he was a "handsome" man once. Every Death Eater had glanced at the Dark Lord before them and what they saw was another shock. Lord Voldemort was as perplexed as anyone...

"Heir?" Voldemort had asked, his red eyes wide as a strong powerful memory had engulfed in his mind and he just sat there with a black illuminated shield covering his body and the table in which the Ouija Board was placed. Voldemort had not wanted anyone to be fooled that he was weak and so had unleashed a little of his strong power to the air so that they could feel and taste that their "Master" was still powerful and no doubt to be released in their breaths. He was much powerful than Dumbledore himself thanks to the blood "forcibly given" by Harry Potter. Doing the Ouija Board alone without anyone showed the amount of power he had since barely and rarely anyone had done it without someone else's psychic energy forces. Those who try usually go insane, even when they're sharing another energy's force.

No one saw the fast flashes that had whizzed through the Dark Lord's mind when he was inside the black dome. Flashes became his mind of a woman with long black silky hair with moist dark brown eyes and her cherry lips in a loving smile... The feeling of pleasure... The flash of green light... A blood curling scream of a woman he had made love to once... The feeling of evil triumphantly conquering the good cells in his body, replacing it with black cells in his experiment of succeeding to become the strongest dark lord ever to come into existence... A woman with fiery red hair and the Slytherin trait of her green eyes widening... The heart of a goat and a cross... A boy with a lightning bolt scar and glasses, tied to a headstone... A laughter... A maniac laughter... the woman with long black silky hair with moist dark brown eyes and her cherry lips in a loving smile... The feeling of pleasure...

Then the flashes stopped, but the picture of the woman burned in his mind. It was grasping so hard as though not wanting to loose its grip. Voldemort shook his head and the black smoky dome had vanished in thin air.

You have an heir, a sneering, proud voice had said in his ear in a soft whisper.

Voldemort knowing to whom the voice belonged to had nodded in comprehension and as he did so the glow that illuminated in the Ouija Board had vanished. Every Death Eater had stared at their Master as he stood up and raised his left hand. Immediately the table and everything else had vanished.

Voldemort after casting the Cruciatus Curse on Lucius and the Death Eaters, who had just recently apparated along with the Dementors from Azkaban as simple as one, two, and three, had told those who were in Azkaban to stay while every other Death Eater were dismissed, leaving more space for the Dementors. Peter and Bellatrix had stayed behind to watch the "entertainment."

Severus Snape had to inform everything to Dumbledore.


Agonizing blood curling screams and howls of pain had disturbed the silence in the cave as Voldemort stood there casting the curse on all of the Death Eaters that came with the Dementors. Their shrieks were muffled by their masks and as they dropped down to the ground in agony, Lucius white dirty long hair had appeared making Voldemort press the curse even harder on them. All of them shrieked and shook, holding their heads and covering their bodies as they laid on the floor writhing and their eyes rolling... Five seconds had passed and Voldemort had diminished the curse that had bounded them. The laid down breathing hard and holding their chests.

"You all have disappointed me so greatly to the point that I almost killed you all, in which I should have for your lack of knowledge. Lucius!" Voldemort barked.

Lucius stood up to his feet swiftly and had crossed the room to Voldemort to kiss the hem of his robes.

"Tell me," Voldemort began in a deadly soft voice that echoed queerly as the sound waves bounced on the walls of the caves, "how an adult group of highly skilled Dark Arts Death Eaters had failed to gain the prophecy, I had clearly had ordered you to intercept? Less thwarted by underage children who barely have any knowledge of true magic and power. Tell me HOW?" Voldemort shouted and snarled loudly making all the Death Eaters that were now on their feet jump.

"M-my lord," Lucius began, being the leader of the group he had to be the one to speak, "the Potter child had it and if we were to cast any spell on him, we were afraid that it might destroy the prophecy-"

"YOU INSOLENT DOLTS!" Voldemort roared. His fist had come in contact with the cave's walls and had broke the walls, making the cave shake and roar like a lion's. Voldemort had glowed a vivid green and his black powerful aura had shown. It left as he quickly saw what would occur if he did not control his powers. Voldemort without any thought had nodded his head to prevent the whole cave to collapse and perish them all. He had mentally and wandlessly conjured an exact identical copy of the cave's walls to hold the original from crushing them.


The Death Eaters had writhed and screamed once again and as fast they felt the pain it had gone.

Voldemort began with a low murderous tone to control his rising temper, "Had it not occurred to you my Death Eaters," he spat, "that you could have tried to summon it?"

"M-my L-lord," said Dolohov skittishly with sweat pouring furiously from out of skin. "We tr – tried, – "

"Shut up," Voldemort snapped putting his two fingers to his temples to massage the headache he began to undergo.

You have an heir, the words kept pounding in his head. Find out who is your heir! With the child's immense power you would be powerful. Invincible! Contact me again telepathically once you have found out who your heir is.