Disclaimer: Harry Potter and all characters, places et al. are owned by J.K. Rowling

A/N: This is all the fault of the new Harry Potter movie, and too much free time. I like a more darker Harry, and love Draco, so that's where the train's headed :)

Chapter 1

It was hot. Terribly hot. He could see the air simmer outside his window, and no one that absolutely needn't move, didn't. Such as Harry Potter. Lying on his back he brushed through his wet hair. He was sweating like someone in hell might, and the sheet stuck to his sweaty body like a second skin.
But at least he was alone and hadn't had to put up with the Dursleys. Granted, compared to previous summers, this was a positively good one so far. The little chat Moody and the other Order members had with the Dursleys at the King's Cross three weeks ago had had some influence on them. They even allowed him to have the trunk in his room, and tried their best to be nice to them. But it was wearing off. Even though they had promised it, no member of the Order showed up.
And to add insult to injury, no one told him what was happening.
Well, to be fair, Ron and Hermione had sent letters early in his summer, but they were not more than poor attempts to keep him happy. He felt his anger rise as he remembered it.
...Busy here...Loads of fun...Can't tell more...Will tell you everything...Wish you were here...Hope you have fun, too...Not your fault, don't brood too much...
Fun, sure, loads of it. He laughed. A harsh laugh, without any trace of humour. His friends at school would have been slightly irritated, if not shocked at this. It was so...un-Harry-like. So far, he hadn't been visited by anyone. And there have been no other letters from his friends.
Well, there was one other letter. And this one had hurt and depressed him like nothing before.
Churling & Mayberth, an old and distinguished wizarding law firm, had sent him paperwork regarding the Black heritage. He was shocked as he found out that Sirius had named him his sole heir. When he first read it, he threw up. He was sick to his core.
He had murdered him, and now he was rewarded for it? That couldn't be right! He tried to protest, have them reconsider or forget about it. He even tried to bribe them. They didn't cave in.
So, despite his own heart, he gave in and accepted. He was no pauper before, but with the Black fortune, he was incredibly rich. And he hated it.
It wasn't his fault, as he had been told so many times. But when he was alone, in his soul, he knew it was his fault. Harry hadn't pushed him through the veil, but he might as well have. He was stupid enough to run head first into the trap.
He acted too foolish, too rash and irrational. Too emotional. If he had only thought it through...If he hadn't listened to his emotions...
But no, he had to act like any stupid, heroic Gryffindor would.
"Harry Potter," a harsh booming voice cut through his thoughts like a buzz saw, "come down here. Now."
He sighed and bit down his thoughts. He heaved himself out of his bed and had to pull the sheet off his body. Putting on a shirt, he walked down the stairs.
Uncle Dursley waited for him at the bottom of the stairs, his face a shade of slight pink. Something that highly annoyed him was going on, he was sure. As soon as Vernon saw him, he sneered at him and stepped aside, revealing Remus Lupin.
"One of your freaky friends is here," he snapped and stomped off like a frightened elephant.
Lupin looked almost like he remembered him, though he wore slightly better robes. His face, though, was even gaunter than last time around, as if he's been through a lot.
"Hello Harry," he smiled warmly. "How are you?"
"How I am?" Harry snapped. He was shocked by himself. He didn't mean to sound so bitter. But what were they thinking? Leaving me alone like this? "I'm absolutely fine. The last three weeks were positively thrilling. With all those many visits and letters of you, oh wait, that didn't happen..."
Lupin's smile wavered, but only for a split second. "I know it's not been as you thought it would. But it's been for your best. There's a war going on, as you're aware of. And now that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is out in the open - thanks to you - it's been getting worse. There've been many attacks in the last two weeks, and, well, as Dumbledore told you, you're safe here from him..."
"Right Yeah," he snorted. "But why you're telling me what I already know?" "I've been sent by the Order. You can't come to Grimauld Place, at least not as soon as we hoped. Dumbledore thinks it's best-"
"That's it? That's why you're here? To wreck the last hopes I had?"
"I wanted to come. The others feared it would be unsafe and wanted to send a letter instead. But you deserve better. So I came."
The anger rose again inside him. Like I am a useless child! "Thanks," his voice sounded cold, "I've things to do. I'm sorry." He slammed the door shut in a burst of fury.
"But Ha-"he could hear Lupin's muffled voice through the door. The next thing he heard was a loud crack as Lupin obviously apparated.
"So your freaks left you? They won't come for you?" Dudley laughed out. He had hidden himself out of sight of the door, and now stood in the hall with a nasty grin on his obese face. The additional boxing training over the last year had turned the fat swine into a fat swine with muscles. Not that it was an improvement for the better...
"Shut it, Dudley," he simply said and stormed up to his room, slamming his door forcefully shut.
"Dad will love to hear that!" he heard Dudley shout from downstairs.After all I did, after all I went through, they still don't trust me? Safety, my ass. I bet they still think I'm the next dark Lord. Or I would crack up and turn into a mental vegetable.
It was him who had suffered the most. He saw Cedric die. It was him who had faced Voldemort, repeatedly. His Godfather was dead. Death surrounded him like an intangible aura.
Another spike of fiery hot anger shot through him.
In the last three weeks, all he could do was think. And that he did. He realised now that he had been wrong all this long time. Sooner or later, either he would die or Voldemort. It was prophesied. And as things went, he was sure it would be him in the end. At least the current Harry. How could he expect to beat the Dark Lord if he was stupid enough to run into his traps?
No. To beat Voldemort this would have to change. He would have to change. He was weak. The old Harry had to go.
Uncle Vernon threw the door wide open, and Harry shot up from his bed.
"Dudley just told me!" He sneered. "You're alone now. And they won't come running for your help as they had us believe." He smiled. If that what cracked up his face could ever be called a smile. "Things will change now. You'll move that...weird stuff of yours down into the cupboard again and you won't leave your room for the remainder of your time here. Which means you'll stop eating at our table, as well."
Harry simply looked up at him and cleared his mind. Somehow Uncle Vernon was confused by his expression. Surely, he had expected fury or anger. But certainly not the utter disinterest Harry showed now. I will have to change. The thought flashed through his mind again. Maybe this was the time to begin.
"No, I won't," he simply stated. "I tell you what I am going to do. I will pack my things, walk out of your house, and you will not tell anyone about it."
Uncle Vernon looked at him, and it seemed he wasn't sure what to think. The bizarre mixture of joy and anger on his face certainly was worth it already.
"YOU don't tell me what I'm going to do!" He raised his hand for a back slap, but before he could bring it down on him, Harry had his wand out and pointed at Vernon. He stopped for a short time, but then he smiled again, and hit him. The slap nearly threw him into the wall. "You can't threaten me with that! I know you're not allowed to use magic outside your infernal school!"
Harry straigthened himself, a thin smile crossed his face. Vernon certainly didn't expect that. "You're right," he said, blood tickling down the corner of his mouth. "But you know what? Soon, I will be of age. And then I am allowed to use magic. And I know where you live."
It took several seconds for it to sink into Vernon's thick skull. "You- You're threatening me?"
"Yes, I am," he said. Even Harry was surprised by his cold determination. But after all this years, this felt so strangely good... Vernon looked him in the eyes, and somehow, he believed him. He stumbled back out of his room.
"OUT. NOW!" he screamed. "I don't want to see you again!"It took Harry no less than 10 minutes to have his stuff packed and walk out of the Dursley's home. A sudden stab of panic rushed through him, but then was replaced again by cold determination. He had to do it. And it felt good. Pulling out of his wand, he called the Knight's Bus, and got onto it, just as the sun set behind his back.
I will have to change...