A New Darkness Era (rewitten)
Summary: Harry finally snaps and goes to the dark side, but doesn't join Voldemort. This story sets place around the 6th book. Rewritten, brief crossover with Naruto
I'd like to thank Shaldana Blackwater and xXFissshBonesssXx for their review/flame, since it has pushed me to re-write this. You will also note that this version is completely different from the original one, and that this version is a lot darker, and Harry is quite sadistic, in a way that might make people queasy. The horcruxes don't exist, so it's completely AU after 5th story starts in 2003, and then goes to 1998, where Harry is 15. Also, there will be some VERY SLIGHT slash, only on Harry's sadistic side
A lone figure stood in an open field, right hand lightly caressing a long sword by their side. Cold green eyes surveyed the field around them, a soft, dark, smile forming on the figure's soft features. The figure didn't move when another appeared near by. Sad blue eyes studied the figure before them.
He hadn't changed a lot since he'd last saw him. He wore a pair of black trousers with several pockets in the legs, a dark green t-shirt over a fishnet singlet, and a light green jacket over it. On his forehead he wore, what looked like a forehead protector, covering the scar that was situated there. His shoulder-length black hair was tied in a loose ponytail. His once bright emerald green eyes where now twisted in malevolence and cruelty. Even his features were darkened by what he has done in such a short time.
"You're here, Professor." The green-eyed young man said with a dark smile on his face. Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, viciously fought the urge to shiver in fear.
"Harry, child, there's no need to do these things. You can come back to the Light, and we'll forget all this happened." Harry Potter, known as the Dark Lord Nosfertu, merely laughed.
"Albus, Albus, Albus. Are you truly that foolish to believe that I'd listen to your ramblings? There is no way anyone in your precious Light will even consider forgetting about what I've done. No, what I've done is quite unforgiving." Harry chuckled for a bit, before this face turned deadly serious.
"Enough talking. Prepare yourself, old man." With that, he moved with deadly speed, removed the sword with one move, and launched himself at the once great leader of Light. At the last second, Dumbledore summoned a long sword, and blocked Harry's blows with an accuracy that spoke of previous experience in sword fighting.
The two exchanged blows, and the occasional spell, but it soon came clear that, though Dumbledore had decades of experience in fighting, Harry had the superior skill, and a natural affinity with fighting. All too soon, Dumbledore was lying, injured, with his back facing Harry, the multiple wounds on his body bleeding profusely, the sword in his hand fell onto the ground with a 'clang'. He tried to control his erratic breathing, but it was to no avail. He felt the prickle of fear as a shadow fell over him. He was rolled onto his back, he let out a hiss of pain as the grass hit his open wounds. Harry kicked away the sword, and crouched down beside him, a cold, cruel, smirk on his face.
"Don't worry Professor, it will all be over soon." With that, Dumbledore watched in subdued horror as Harry placed his hand over his head. A crackle of energy formed at the palm of his hand. Steadily, but slowly, the energy built up, until it was a crackling ball of pure energy. The last thing Albus Dumbledore heard, before his whole world crashed, was Harry speaking softly
"Soon, it will all come into place." Harry Potter straightened with the grace of a skill assassin, looking at the now charred remains of the man that had been a thorn in his side for a while now, no emotion in his eyes. Killing the man had been surprisingly easy, he felt satisfaction in doing so, since now nothing, but Hogwarts herself, stood against his goal. He snorted, and walked away, heading toward the one place that had once been the only home he knew.
During the Summer of 1998, Harry James Potter lay on the 'bed' in his 'room'. In his hand, he held a small dagger, one that he has had for several years. While the Wizarding World was under the illusion that he was purely innocent, he actually wasn't. He wasn't Dark, so to speak, but he had his dark secrets, like the fact he made his first kill when he was only 8 years old, or that he was trained in several forms of fighting, or that he knew of many ways to kill someone with his bare hands. It had all started when he was about 5 years old. He met a strange old man, with the most unusual markings on his face, and very long white hair.
He had been innocently playing in a nearby park, when a bunch of older kids ganged up on him, and started to beat him up. He was left bruised and wounded, when the man came up to him, pity and remorse in his eyes, helped him up, and fixed up the multiple wounds. The man had stayed around, to keep an eye on him.
The man hadn't liked what he saw, so he began to steadily train him to protect himself. It was by pure accident that Harry came across his new teacher, who insisted on being called 'Jiraiya-sensei' for some reason, performing what Harry had thought was impossible. He was, literally, throwing fireballs from his hands, moving so fast he was a blur, and walking up trees. For a while, Harry was unable to speak or move.
It wasn't until 10 minutes had past, that his teacher noticed he was there. At first, the strange man was annoyed that Harry was able to be there without him being able to 'sense' him there. Then, he realised that Harry had the ability to do the same things, and proceeded to train him, even more vigorously than before.
But, 3 years after his training originally began, he was attacked by several men with knives, and guns, hoping to steal everything he had. Harry fell into a defensive stance, and dodged everything they tried to do to him, with a grace that was rarely seen in most adults, let alone an 8 year old. Most of the men, he was able to knock unconscious, but one, that was clearly the leader, was much more hard, and Harry ended up killing him with a knife in the jugular, an impressive accomplishment since Harry was much shorter than the man was, and lot more inexperienced.
Once the adrenaline wore off, and Harry saw what he had done, he fell into shock, unable to take what he did. Jiraya-sensei appeared from where he had been watching, and knocked him out of his shock, telling him that there was little he could have done to prevent it, and that he had done well in the situation. The next years, Harry became even better, though half way through the man had to leave to his own homeland. When his Hogwarts Letter came, Harry was very much able to defend himself, but had to keep his abilities from his 'relatives' in case they tired to use them against him.
The problem in that, is that he couldn't bring himself to defend himself, like his instincts always told him to whenever his 'darling' family hit him, or when they threatened him. Every instinct in his body, told him to lash out, to stop the mental, and physical, abuse. But, he didn't, he knew that if he did, if he gave in to what his mind, his instincts, told him, there would be no going back.
Harry closed his eyes, and forced the feel of his anger at the way his only living relatives treated him down into the little box that he created inside his mind long ago to contain his emotions. Once his anger was stored sufficiently, Harry opened his eyes to watch his dagger while it moved in the air. A soft smile formed on his face. He had been doing this during long, and boring, nights at Hogwarts, while his fellow housemates slept. However, his moment of peace was disturbed by the horrid screech of the woman he had to call his aunt.
"Boy, get down here right now." Harry fought the urge to snarl viciously, but reluctantly got up. He put his knife in a hidden holster he kept hidden at all times. He made his way toward the door, opened it, and went down the stairs, mentally preparing himself for what his mother's sister had planned for him. He entered the kitchen area, to find Petunia standing at the counter, a rather large pan in her left hand, a large kitchen knife in her right hand, and an annoyed expression on her face. When she saw Harry, she glared annoyingly at him.
"About time, you damn brat. Start the food, or you won't eat until next week." Harry had to viciously bite back the snarl that threatened to come from his throat. Grudgingly, he began to prepare the food, ignoring the jeering and taunts that came from his only remaining family. He had to use great restraint not to throw away everything he learnt from his sensei about morals, and permanently shut her up.
"You're even more worthless than that good-for-nothing mother of yours, and even more worthless than that pathetic bastard you call a father. The only thing you're good for, is nothing. This is your only purpose, obeying us. Every thing you have done, is worthless, you are worthless. We should have just drowned you when that 'man' dumped you on our doorstop, and saved us all the trouble of wasting our money on a pathetic excuse of a human like you." With each malicious word the woman said, Harry felt his heart going colder, and the hand that held the knife became tighter. As soon as she finished speaking, Harry slammed the knife down on the bench blade down, turned to her, and gave her the dirtiest, and coldest, look he could.
"Oh, worthless am I?" He felt every sense of morale crumble and die as he advanced on the now frightened woman, that, in his eyes, was no longer his aunt. Said woman flinched in fear, backing up while she stared at her nephew with undiluted fear in her eyes.
"I am sick and tired of all the crap you put me through. The only reason you're putting me through all this shit, is because you're jealous of my mother, who, by the way is so much more than you can ever hope to be. You have no idea the kind of shit I've been through, nor do you know what I can do." With each hissed word he said, his eyes became more iced, and, little by little, insanity crept into his mind. The box of negative emotions that he locked inside his mind opened, fueling his rage, and his magic.
"Do you know what it's like, having nightmares of people dying, or of torture? Do you have any idea what it's like to be mentally connected to the bastard that murdered your family? Have you ever had your dreams torn away from you, because of some seer-wannabe loony? I think not, you sadistic bitch." Harry had the woman, back against the wall, and too terrified to do anything. Harry let a dark smile form on his face, making everything seem even more terrifying.
Shadows began to leak out from his feet, becoming as thick smoke in the air. Petunia whimpered in fear, causing Harry to smile maliciously. He reached behind him, and pulled out the knife he always kept with him. He brought it forward, relishing in the sob that came from her mouth.
"Don't worry, this won't hurt for long." He said with an insane glint in his eyes. He moved to plunge the knife into her face, when the door bell rang. Harry turned his head to the door, and growled almost animalisticaly at it, more than a little annoyed at the interruption. He turned to face the woman again, his mouth contorted into a snarl.
"Expecting any visitors?" He hissed. Petunia whimpered, and shook her head.
"Answer the door, and don't try anything funny, unless you want to die slowly." He snarled, and moved away, the shadows receding into his body. Petunia fearfully composed herself, and went to the door. Harry placed the knife back into the sheath, and moved so he would be able to see what was happening, yet remain hidden from whoever was there. With a shaking hand, Petunia opened the door, and an immediate scowl formed on her face. There, in the doorway, was what couldn't be mistaken as being wizards. The most obvious part, was the fact that they were dressed in robes, no less, and they had an aura that just screamed that they weren't normal.
"What?" She snapped, keeping in mind that her once nephew was watching her every move. The wizards looked taken a back at her attitude, but visibly puffed themselves up.
"Mrs. Dursley, we have received information that magic has been performed on the premises. We were sent to investigate the situation, and make any action needed." Petunia stared at them blankly, before annoyance flashed on her face.
"I will not have your freakishness in my house. I suggest you leave." She said, with an under-laying threat in her voice.
"Now now, aunty, that's not very hospitable." The wizards looked surprised at the sudden appearance of the Boy-Who-Lived. A flash of fear crossed the woman's face, before it was masked with annoyance.
"Having you in this house is bad enough, I am not going to have any more freaks." She hissed, and immediately regretted it when Harry's eyes turned pitch black for a second, before returning to green again. The smile that formed on his face chilled her to the bone, since it spoke of the indescribable pain that was sure to come.
"There is no need to worry ma'am, we just need to make sure that no damage has occurred." The younger looking wizard said with a soothing tone in his voice. Petunia pursed her lips, before reluctantly letting them in. The two moved past her, nodding to Harry, who smiled to them with a fake smile.
The two wizards checked the house, in case the magic had been performed by a hidden wizard, and then they checked Harry's wand. After they were satisfied that there weren't any hidden dark wizards in the house, they decided that the magic that was just a fluke on the instrument's part, and left the house, feeling rather disappointed that there wasn't anything there. After they left, Petunia felt the fear that she kept hidden flare up when Harry turned to her with a look in his eyes that would scare even the devil himself. After about a minute, he spoke.
"I don't think I'll kill you at the moment." He began walking toward her, a slow, sadistic, smile formed on his face. Petunia stepped back, until her back was against the wall. Harry grinned
"I think I'll wait uncle dearest is back." He said, in an almost conversational tone, before giving a flick of his hand, which sent her flying into a chair in the living room, before ropes entwined themselves around her, so she wasn't able to move. She gave him a fearful look, which turned into terror as a large knife materialized into his hand. He gave the knife a fond look, before turning to his once aunt, a gleam of satisfaction in his eyes.
"No need to worry, auntie, what you'll go through is no where near what I went through at your hand." With that, he casually walked over to the chair, the knife twirling in his hand. He smiled down at the terrified woman, a cold look in his eyes.
"Feel free to scream, no one can hear you." With that, he moved the knife down, and a second later, a painful scream echoed around the house.
Vernon Dursley pulled into the driveway of his home at approximately 6pm, a sense of satisfaction about the day's work filled him. He hummed as he walked toward the front door, unaware of what would meet him. He opened the door with a smile, and called out to his wife
"I'm home, Pet." He looked puzzled when there wasn't a response. He walked to the kitchen with a confused frown, before he heard terrified whimper coming from the living area. He felt his blood turn to ice, when he entered the room, and saw his wife tied to a chair, almost her entire body covered in blood, with multiple, freely bleeding, wounds. He was in shock when he saw his nephew smile pleasantly at him, looking at odds with the blood splattered on his clothing, and the bloodied knife that he held in his hand, his other hand on her shoulder in mock tenderness.
"Hello Uncle-dearest. You're just in time, I was worried that you wouldn't make it back in time." The smile on his face made Vernon's blood turn to ice. Harry's eyes turned from being pleasant, to cold.
"What's wrong uncle, you aren't happy to see me?" The mocking tone in his voice sent more shivers down his spine, before it clicked that it was he who was responsible for his wife's injuries. He gritted his teeth, and took a step toward him.
"Nah uh ah, uncle-dearest, you'll ruin everything." He said in a condescending tone, that people used on little children. Vernon let out a snarl of anger
"Boy, you'd better stop this nonsense, or I swear I'll give you a beating you'll never forget." Harry's eyes turned ice cold
"You'll regret saying that, Dursley." The coldness in his voice made his blood turn to ice once again. The hand that had once been on Petunia's shoulder, moved to her head. With his eyes firmly on Vernon, Harry tilted her head back, and placed the knife at her neck, right over the jugular vein. He tilted the knife so the tip dug slightly into her neck.
"I was going to end her life in a more... painless manner, but your rudeness has changed my mind." He tightened his grip on her hair, receiving a terrified whimper for the effort. A sadistic smile formed on his face, as he sliced her throat, right through the jugular. It took a painfully long minute before death gratefully came over her, after which Vernon let out an enraged scream, before launching himself at Harry.
His actions didn't faze the homicidal teen, who merely raised a hand in a dismissive manner, sending the overweight man flying though the air, landing with a painful crunch as he hit the wall. Harry's smile grew colder as he walked toward his past tormentor as a predator moves toward their prey. He wrapped his hand around the man's thick neck, while the knife hovered over where his heart was.
"Silly, foolish uncle. You can't intimidate me any longer, uncle-darling. It's time for you to get your just deserts." Several seconds later, a painfilled scream filled the house.
It was at approximately 6am the next day, when the alarm that the Ministry of Magic had placed around the home of Harry Potter, blared into life. There was a mad rush to arrive at said destination, only to find the entire house in flames. The Aurors stared at the flames in shock and disbelief, unable to believe what they were seeing. It never occurred to them that someone was powerful enough to attack the house, or that muggles would set the house on fire.
A young female Auror surveyed the burning house for anything odd, when she noticed the silhouette of a male in what used to be the lounge room. She blinked in shock as he seemed to be unfazed by the flames. As though he knew someone saw him, he turned, and the young Auror saw a flash of dark emerald. A shiver of icy fear ran down her spine, as the emerald eyes were void of any emotion.
She blinked, and the figure was no longer there. She looked around, to see if anyone else saw the figure in the flames, but her fellow Aurors had been involved in other things. The acting superior noticed her distress, and walked over to her, placing his hand on her shoulder, causing her to give a slight startled jump.
"Is there a problem, Auror Jenkis?" She looked hesitantly at the burning house.
"I thought I saw someone in the flames. They turned, and looked at me. But, then they were gone." She trailed off, talking about how she didn't imagine it, and that she wasn't crazy. The older Auror just shook his head in disappointment.
"I think you'd best return to HQ for a while, just while we search the house once the fire's out." He spoke in a calm, soothing tone, so she didn't get over excited. The young Auror timidly did as she was asked, muttering to herself that she hadn't imagine it, and that she still held her sanity.
The older Auror shook his head sadly, a bit put out that one of the Aurors under his command had suddenly lost brief control of their faculties. He turned to the burning house, and set to put the flames out, not noticing the figure that watched from the shadows, a satisfied, and creepily content smile on their face.
He also didn't notice when said figure disappeared, in what appeared to be a burst of pure darkness. It had taken over several hours to put the flames out, and took longer until the house was safe for an investigation.
In the remains of the lounge room, were the charred remains of a tall, thin female, and of a large, pudgy man. After a quick spell, the remains where identified as Vernon and Petunia Dursley.
More investigations showed that the female, Mrs. Dursley, had been deseased for at least 11 hours before the fire had been lit. It also showed that the male, Mr. Dursley, hadn't been deceased for longer than 1 hour before the culprit lit the fire.
Evaluation of the remains showed severe signs of prolonged torture for both, which led the Aurors to believe that Death Eaters were behind it. Since there were only the remains of the elder Dursleys, and the younger had been staying with friends, they suspected that Harry Potter either escaped the attack, or he had been kidnapped by the culprits.
In the months following, the Dark Lord showed no signs that the had Harry, and that he had his followers on a man-hunt for the boy. Both the Ministry and Albus Dumbledore sent their own people to look for their missing savior.
After several months, they withdrew their people from the search, and waited for any sign that he was alive. Unfortunately, when this sign appears, neither side is prepared for what comes afterwards.
A/N: I have finally gotten around to rewriting this, I hope that those who looked at the original version find this one better. I admit, after reading the old one, that the grammar and plot was shocking, so I made some major adjustments, and did this version. Please tell me what you think :)