Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter, which is property of J.K. Rowling.
Summary- Harry Potter has a dark side. A terrible, powerful force that threatens to overwhelm him and cast the world into a darkness that Voldemort could never accomplish. Fully awakened after the disastrous and traumatizing events of his fifth year, it is in control now. And nothing, not even Harry Potter himself will stand in its way. H/G
AN: Another fanfiction from me? Am I insane? This is another hefty project, and with a tough school year and multiple other projects, I must be insane to start another one. Oh well, blame my overactive imagination. This is going to be pretty dark, possibly my second darkest fic. The first is pretty extreme for me. I made it to vent all my darker wishes on those characters that just plain tick me off. Oh, and those who like Draco and Snape, you might want to back out now. This story isn't going to end well for one of them, and the other will have quite a painful part to play.
Chapter 1 The Awakening
Harry Potter sat in his bed in Number 4 Privet Drive, wallowing in grief, misery, the whole works. With the death of his godfather Sirius Black hanging over his head, and the prophecy in front of him, the almost sixteen year old felt that going right in his life. And if that wasn't enough, the shame of using a Cruciatus Curse and the knowledge that he will probably have to use at least one more Unforgivable Curse brought him down immensely. Then there was the fact that Voldemort possessed him, something so intense and painful that Harry shuddered whenever he remembered it.
But Voldemort, and Bellatrix Lestrange had taken so much from him. And when he replayed the image of Bellatrix killing Sirius, Voldemort killing Cedric, his mother's last pleas for mercy for her son, his father's brave but futile stand, he knew one thing. He could kill. He would kill.
But I don't want to be a murderer! Harry thought desperately, his head whipping around as if the prophecy would leave his mind if he shook it.
Yes you do. You wanted to hurt Bellatrix. And you will murder Voldemort. A voice sneered inside of him.
The voice had begun appearing more and more often in Harry's mind, soon after the disastrous incident at the Department of Mysteries, constantly giving him his darkest thoughts and feelings, his dark side. The side that made him so similar to Voldemort.
I don't want to kill anyone! Harry cried out to the voice.
You have no choice. The voice said smoothly, not the least bit perturbed. Except one, of course. Just let me handle all of your enemies. I'll take care of everything for you. Trust me.
The voice had made this offer many times, and each time, Harry was tempted to give in, just let everything go and let the darkness swallow him whole. But something tugged on him. He had no name for this nameless rope that held him from the abyss, but each time, he was grateful for it.
I won't. I can't let the darkness control me. Harry shook his head, and the voice went silent again, waiting, lurking just beyond his sight, in the shadows of his mind.
Harry stepped out of Number 4 Privet Drive to take a walk, a habit he had taken to recently. It gave him a quiet moment to think, without the knowledge that the Dursleys were just outside the door, without the 'normalcy' of Privet Drive.
He had taken another duty too, to scout out the area for any signs of trouble. So far, he had easily picked up on people watching him, the Order members. Tonks was easy enough to spot; her dead clumsiness gave her away easily. Dung was a little tougher, but if Harry smelled the air, he had the scent of cheap tobacco. Moody's wooden leg made it easier to hear him, but Moody could track him the best with that blue eye of his.
Harry stopped for a moment, pretending like he was enjoying the fresh air, while he listened and smelled the air. No tobacco, no strange noises, no clunks. None of the three Order members Harry could pick up on were around. Someone else was on duty tonight.
Harry continued walking, thinking he might have given the game away already. He had gone for quite some time till he reached the park. He moved towards the swings to sit there and think, an old habit of his because no one wanted to be his friend in primary school. It was quite dark now, and the streetlights had burned out near the swings, but Harry paid it no mind, lost in his own thoughts.
Harry reflected on the last few weeks, how none of the Order members had been allowed to tell him anything, how his friends weren't allowed to say anything and their letters were scarce now, and the few that came treated him like glass, or a bomb that would blow at the least provocation. That was a better description of him last year, though. This year, Harry didn't know how to react. It was as if the world had suddenly shifted on its axis.
When am I going to be told something? Dumbledore tells me I'm the only hope for beating Voldemort, but I can't know what the bloody hell he's up to?
The sudden crack of someone Apparating brought Harry's thoughts back to reality as he whipped his wand out and turn towards the source. As he did this, however, another voice, to his flank, cried, "Crucio!"
The brutal feeling of hundreds of white-hot knives plunging into every part of his body engulfed Harry as he collapsed, but managed to catch sight of three Death Eaters, one of which seemed to be the leader from the way the others moved.
The lead Death Eater released Harry from the Cruciatus, and in a chillingly familiar voice, called out, "That's how you do a Cruciatus Potter!"
Harry's head whipped towards the Death Eater he knew as Bellatrix Lestrange. The woman who killed Sirius. Unbridled hatred flowed through his veins, and he reached for his wand on the ground slowly, all the while thinking, Where the hell is the Order?!
"Bellatrix." He spat out, and he pointed his wand towards her. "ADFLICTATIO!"
The Pain Curse flew towards Bellatrix, who barely had time to block with a Shield Charm. The other two Death Eaters, along with Bellatrix, chorused, "CRUCIO!"
Harry collapsed under the combined strength of three Cruciatus Curses, their power equal or probably greater than one of Voldemort's Cruciatus Curses. He felt it slightly lessen, and his numbing brain registered that one of them had released their hold on him. He heard who it was a moment later. "Do you like that, ickle Potter?" Bellatrix asked in her baby voice. "Such a strong little boy, aren't you? Let's see how much longer you last before you crack, like the Longbottoms."
Harry remembered Neville's parents' vacant expressions, and power born from desperation welled up within him. He threw them off, just barely, causing the Death Eaters to jump back in surprise as Harry collapsed, his tortured body screaming in pain.
"Looks like ickle Potter is stronger than we thought. Let's see how he likes Dementies."
Harry's blood froze as he managed to raise his head weakly, and saw two Dementors gliding towards him. Oh God, please say that any Order members weren't kissed. Please say that it was Dung, and he needed to leave. Please, say there isn't another death on my hands.
Harry staggered to his feet as the coldness enveloped his body, giving him the strangest sensation of aching, burning pain and freezing numbness. The voices of his long dead parents came flying through the pain, but instead of comfort, it brought nothing but aching horror to the young man's battered and weary body.
"Not Harry! Not Harry! Please --"
"Not Harry, please no, take me --"
"Stand aside, you silly girl…"
"Not Harry! Please… have mercy… have mercy…"
"Can you hear your parent's dying cries, Potter?" Bellatrix's mocking voice rang out, and Harry felt a hatred for this woman who had taken his godfather from him, who took Neville's parents away, who was a servant to Harry's greatest foe. He wanted to kill her, to make her suffer like everyone she hurt. At that moment, his greatest wish was to simply make her suffer. And then, something happened.
The numbing chills of the Dementors gave away to nothing as Harry stood up, his body acting of it's own accord. A new feeling enveloped Harry. A dark, possessive, powerful, feeling.
Harry tried to scream, but his voice no longer responded. He tried to move his hands, but nothing happened. It was as if the darkness had swallowed him whole. It felt so different from the feeling when Voldemort possessed him. That was an attack from the outside, a snake. This was shapeless shadow from the inside, and it wanted out.
It's my turn now, Harry.
This was the last thing that Harry heard before darkness overtook him.
"I'm free." Harry's voice said, though not his voice. It was much lower and had a strange quality to it, an unnamable, ethereal and yet powerful quality that chilled even the darkest hearts.
"Be gone, servants of Darkness. I do not need you right now." Harry's voice commanded, and the Dementors actually nodded, and glided away to a distance.
"What the bloody hell?" One of the Death Eaters swore, and raised his wand. "Cru-" He only got partway through the curse as Harry's hand raised itself up and a black jet of light hurtled out of it, and impacted the Death Eater, who was thrown back into a tree, which promptly snapped. Both of the tree and the man, that is.
Bellatrix looked stunned for a moment as Harry turned his head towards her, his once bright and lively green eyes now soullessly black. "Now, it's your turn, Bellatrix Lestrange. I'm going to make you suffer, like you've made others suffer." Harry's voice said this so coldly that Bellatrix looked afraid for a moment, before regaining her confidence.
"Is that so? Fine then! Do your worst. You can't cast a Cruciatus Curse to save your life." Bellatrix sneered.
"My worst will make Voldemort seem merciful." Harry said coldly, unaffected by Bellatrix's taunts. He was much too clever to be caught on criminal charges. His revenge would be far more sinister.
Bellatrix seemed angered by the use of Voldemort's name. "The Dark Lord wanted you for himself, but I think he will let this slide." Bellatrix said, her false bravado not fooling the darkness inside Harry. "Avada-"
She never got any farther than that, as Harry raised his wand and pointed it directly at her head, saying nothing, but Bellatrix could literally feel the power emanating from Harry, and it froze her with terror. "Supremus Existimatio!" The terrible voice cried, chilling those who heard its sound like a death bell ringing.
Then, she felt it. Suddenly, guilt rained down upon her. Guilt that she so richly deserved, yet never received. And pain. Agonizing pain, twenty times worse than any Cruciatus the Dark Lord could inflict. She collapsed, screaming in absolute agony as years of pain and guilt and torment came crashing down upon her. Harry, or whatever was inside of him, controlling him, was unleashing every terrible memory from his shattered and painful existence, all the guilt, misery, loneliness, sorrow, despair, torment, neglect of fifteen years came crashing down in one terrible moment.
The remaining Death Eater, who had been frozen in sheer terror, galvanized into action at last with the tortured screams of Bellatrix Lestrange calling out into the night. As he ran, he heard footsteps behind him he turned instinctively. The sight behind him, now fully visible in the light of the streetlight, paralyzed him.
This was a demon. His soulless black eyes were without light and looked almost dead, a dark abyss that would suck anyone who dared look into them. His features, once kindly and handsome, seemed warped and twisted. Even the area surrounding him seemed to be warping and twisting with some strange dark malevolence, as if his very presence corrupted the entire area.
"Ah yes, what to do with you?" Harry's once kind voice said coldly.
"Please… let me go… I don't know anything! I swear!" the Death Eater begged, "I'll fight on your side!"
"I have no need of weak fools who have no backbone. Die." Harry's voice rang out, and he raised his hand and threw it forward, and the Death Eater dropped, his now blank eyes rolling into the back of his head. If anyone was listening closely, they might have heard a low sound, similar to glass breaking.
"Now, was my worst enough, dear Bellatrix?" Harry asked mockingly, turning towards his gasping victim, who looked at him with abject terror in her eyes.
"Yes." She gasped out. "That was far worse than any Cruciatus Curse from the Dark Lord. What the bloody hell are you?"
"I am the true Harry Potter. I am the final instrument of destruction for you and your master." The soulless black of his eyes now held a small amount of satisfaction at the fear that flitted across Bellatrix's face.
"Now it's time for you to go to Hell, Bellatrix. I've already reserved a place for you."
One last tortured scream was the last anyone ever heard of Bellatrix Lestrange.
"Harry? Harry! Wake up!"
Harry opened his eyes tiredly, the aftereffects of the last hour getting to him. "Wha-" He said tiredly, before he remembered what happened. Bellatrix. Cruciatus. Dementors. Mum and Dad screaming. So cold…
"Harry?" The voice asked, this time less urgent.
"Get Potter up, Lupin. We need to get going, now." Another voice growled.
The identity of the voices became clear as Harry began reassembling himself again. "Professor Lupin? Professor Moody?" He asked wearily.
"Wotcher, Harry. Come on. Up." Tonks said, her normally cheerful tone somber and subdued.
Harry felt himself being pulled up, two arms holding him up as he steadied himself. "Where's Bellatrix?!" Harry asked worriedly. "What happened? Who was on duty?"
"Not here, boy." Moody growled. "Come on. We're going back."
"Going where?" Harry asked guardedly. "How do I know you're who you say you are?"
"How do we know you're who you say you are, boy?" Moody countered.
"Ask me anything I would know, then." Harry said confidently, then added, "And I'll ask you something."
"Fine." Moody growled. "At least you're being cautious. Lupin?" Moody asked, looking towards the younger man.
"Harry, who was your father?" Remus asked, and Harry looked confused for a moment, until he got it.
"Prongs, because of his Animagus form." Harry responded, and Remus grinned at him.
"That's him. Your question?"
"What was the question you asked me the last time you picked me up, Professor Lupin?" Harry asked, turning towards the tired looking werewolf.
"What you're Patronus was, and you said it was Prongs." Remus said, smiling. "And it's Remus, or Moony."
"Okay then let's go." Moody rumbled, "We don't have time for this."
"Where are we going?" Harry asked, but the now somber expression on Remus' face told him all. "We're going to Num-" Harry started incredulously, but Moody cut him off.
"Not here! Trees have ears!" Moody said sharply, and they nodded.
"How are we going to get there?" Harry asked, and Lupin pulled out a dilapidated trainer.
"Portkey. Let's go, Harry." Lupin said kindly. Harry nodded numbly, and moved closer, and grasped the shoe. "Portus." Remus said quietly, and Harry felt a tug on his navel suddenly.
When he finally got all his bearings, he found himself standing in front of one of the many places he'd rather never see again.
Number 12 Grimmauld Place.
AN: I hope this chapter was good enough that you'll read the rest of the story! I know it was short, but it will get better! Thanks for reading and please review!