HP/LV: What if Harry found out he was a Horcrux before he was meant to? What kind of path would that lead him down and to who would he turn to when everything else around him falls apart. Dark Harry and Slash
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any other character based off the series, those rights are JKR's not mine.
A/N: Some of the beginning of this chapter will be similar to Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. Thank you emma wolf94 for once again doing marvelous job on editing my fic.
A/N-2: I have some BAD news; I recently had my computer cleaned and so took off all my writing and stored it on a USB stick. When I got my computer back I plugged in the USB only to find it is not working. I am currently trying to fix this and so I apologise: but for the time being I will not be updating. Let us all hope that I haven't just lost 8 years of writing.
A/N-3: Last chapter I got a guest review that I want to answer:
Guest: no offense i just don't like Cassiopeia. i just don't see why she in your story.
I will never take offense but I found this particular comment funny. The use of Cassiopeia as explained is to bring Harry into the Dark Community. Something Voldemort correctly assumes he cannot do. Also I am doing a story about the Dark and so want to be able to create a society; and that means bringing in more characters to give a broader scope on what the Dark stands for. Cassiopeia is one of many who will come into this fic, I am sorry you don't like her but she is here to stay.
Harry Potter was snoring. He'd spent hours sitting at his desk, a well-worn copy of Occulmency For Beginners in front of him, eventually falling asleep on top of it: his face pressed down into the folds of the book, his glasses askew and his mouth slightly open.
Various objects could be found scattered around his room: clothes, parchment and the occasional candy wrapper littered the floor. In the middle of the room, on top of his bed, his trunk was open, seemingly half full. Harry's broomstick was thrown haphazardly next to Hedwig's cage, who was currently locked inside it, looking none too pleased with her owner, occasionally glaring at him with her amber eyes.
Crumpled papers could be seen peeking from underneath Harry's slumped form. He shifted slightly in his sleep, tucking his arm more comfortably underneath his head, revealing a piece of parchment covered in spindly writing.
I hope this letter finds you well. Firstly, I would like to apologize for my abrupt departure last night and to assure you that, had it not been for the safety of our current Potions Master, I would have stayed to discuss your concerns. I am aware that you are angry with me, Harry, and I understand why, but let me assure you that we will fix things.
Please find enclosed the books on Occulmency that I promised you. I hope you will find them informative. We shall talk more about the subject upon your return to Hogwarts, but for now please read them and practice clearing your mind.
If it is convenient, I would like to visit you again in Privet Drive at the end of August. I would appreciate your assistance on a small task that I hope to accomplish before the 1st September. I will also discuss with Arthur and Molly about updating the wards around the Burrow so that I can consider allowing you to reside there after our little mission, for the remainder of the holidays. If you are willing to lend an old man a hand, I shall explain more about what I require of you when I next see you.
Kindly send your answer with this owl.
Beside the letter was an old alarm clock that was ticking loudly, showing that it was one minute to midnight. Just next to it, held in Harry's lose grasp, was another piece of parchment covered in an elegant, refined script. The letter had obviously been read many times since it had been delivered three days prior.
As promised, I have organized your transport, alias and lodgings for the next few weeks. I am hoping you will be able to handle the rest yourself.
You will find enclosed all the necessary information and papers regarding your new identity. To summarize, you will now be known as Harrison William Blake, named after your father William Angus Blake (I have attached a photo of him for you to base your disguise on). He was once a loyal follower who was killed just before the end of the first war; you can thank your friend Moody for that particular death. Make sure you read up on the history of both your new persona and that of your supposed family.
As to how you are getting to your new home, it's quite simple: this piece of parchment is a portkey, which took a while to send through the wards by the way so you better appreciate it. To activate it you have to say 'Fortuna' in the language that we share.
The portkey will take you to the portkey zone in Knockturn Alley. From there it's a short walk down the alley to the Inn, which is called the Doxy Closet. It's one of the cleaner, more respectable inns there, so I don't want any complaining from you. You will find it on the left side of the street, next to Slaggers Magical Amulets. Remember that I have only paid a one month rent: after that you're on your own. I would suggest finding a job in the Alley to cover your expenses since, for the time being, visiting Gringotts is not an option for you, unless you want to risk getting caught.
As per our agreement I have also left you some books for you to start learning from in your room at the Doxy Closet. One of them, Magical Disguises, will help you create your new persona, making your disguise both untraceable and long lasting. In the book there are also instructions on how to disguise your Owl. And don't forget to have your mail redirected to the Owl Post Office as soon as possible to avoid your mail being traced, something I'm sure Dumbledore will do as soon as he finds you missing.
I hope you are not having any second thoughts about this: it's too late for that now. Make sure you notify me through the link as soon as you make it to the Alley. One last thing, I will need to check the strength of your disguise so I will be paying a visit to your mind two days after sending this letter. I believe that gives you plenty of time sort everything out.
The clock struck twelve, setting off the alarm. Harry grunted as he opened his sleepy eyes. He was momentarily confused as he wondered how he'd fallen asleep, before he quickly turned the alarm off, hoping that he hadn't woken his relatives.
He stood up and stretched, noticing that he was still holding Voldemort's letter, smiling as he looked over it one more time. As Voldemort had said, he'd visited Harry's mind the previous night to make sure that Harry had come up with a suitable disguise to masquerade as William Blake's son.
As Harry hadn't been able to do magic, he'd had to resort to nicking muggle money from his uncle and buying his disguise when he went grocery shopping for his aunt. Voldemort was pleasantly surprised by how well a wig, foundation and colour changing contacts morphed Harry's appearance. He was still missing some of the Blakes' more defining traits, but Voldemort was sure that as long as he managed to keep a low profile all the way to his room, no one would notice and he would then be able to use magic to finish the rest.
Harry had seen Mundungus arrive at eight earlier that evening and had set his alarm for twelve, knowing that his shift would not be over until two, giving Harry plenty of time to have a nap and be out of the Dursleys' house with no one the wiser. 'Tonight is the night I finally get out of here', he thought with no small amount of glee.
Hedwig hooted in irritation from her cage, attracting Harry's attention: "I'm sorry girl, it won't be much longer until I have a very important job for you."
Placing the letter on his desk, Harry noticed Dumbledore's seemingly innocent missive. Harry had replied to the Headmaster saying that he would meet him in August, which he had no intention of doing, merely going along with Dumbledore for now to avoid making him suspicious. Although he had to admit that he was slightly curious as to why the man required his help; however, it was probably nothing of importance and Harry soon put it out of his mind.
Gathering his new Occulmency books and the last few spare pieces of parchment, he placed them beside his trunk. Looking around him, he wished he could have packed sooner as he didn't want to stay there any longer than he had to, but it had been necessary to hold out to avoid any suspicion from the Order.
Harry packed all his belongings as neatly as possible before glancing around the room to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. With a small gasp, he ran to the loose floorboard under his bed and opened it: he couldn't believe he'd almost forgotten his most precious possessions! Grabbing his invisibility cloak, his photo album, the marauders map and the two Dark Arts books Voldemort had sent him, he loaded them all, except for his cloak, into his trunk, locking it with a small thud.
He was almost ready. Looking at the clock he noticed that half an hour had already gone by. Cursing silently to himself for taking so long, he quickly picked up a supermarket bag next to his desk and pulled out a light brown wig, some contact lenses and very light foundation. He had been lucky to have gotten his hands on these items, for once he'd been glad that his aunt was a lazy old prune who made him do all the shopping for her.
Harry made his way quietly to the bathroom, shutting the door and switching on the light. Standing in front of the mirror he pulled out the foundation first, applying it generously over his scar. Looking at himself, he was as amazed as he'd been the first time he'd done this with Voldemort: it was like the scar had never been there in the first place. He was sure that if someone looked hard enough they would be able to see it, but he'd make sure they had no reason to scrutinize him.
Next, he reopened the packet of contact lenses, opting for deep blue ones that would lighten his green eyes to the bluish green of the Blakes. Harry had never worn contacts until the previous night so it took a few tries to work it out, but once everything was in place, he couldn't help but wonder why he'd never thought of getting contacts before: he couldn't believe how clearly he could see!
Lastly, he picked up the wig and placed it on his head. At first he was going to dye his hair, but he knew he wouldn't have enough time to do that before leaving, so he'd opted to buy a wig instead. It was the same length and style as Harry's hair with the only difference being that his hair now laid flat, instead of the unruly mess it usually was.
Finishing the last touches, Harry crept back to his bedroom and shut the door. He quickly strode over to his desk, pulling out two letters from his drawer and setting them on top of his desk. The first one was addressed to his relatives. Harry hoped that if he left them a note saying that he'd been picked up by 'his lot' they wouldn't cause a fuss and he might get an extra few days before his guards realised that he was gone. The other was his letter to the Owl Office with a request to get an O.P Box. This one he would be sending with Hedwig whilst it was still safe for her to fly. Hopefully his mail would be sorted before the Order came looking for him.
Opening his window and letting Hedwig out of her cage, he gave her the letter, instructing her to fly as quickly as possible to the Owl Office and wait for the necessary papers before coming back to him. She pecked him affectionately on his fingers before flying out of the window.
With that done, Harry began to feel nervous, but at the same time a weird, giddy sense of excitement was rising within him. He released a breath, trying to still his shaking hands. It was almost surreal what he was about to do. For the first time in his life he was going to be on his own. He had anticipated this day for years: the day that he would get his independence, the day that he would finally be free.
'Freedom', he thought with a smile.
It was like taking a breath of fresh air: he was finally going to be free from all the expectations and demands that he'd been burdened with since he was a small child. He just couldn't believe that Voldemort was the one who would be setting him free.
Harry sighed as he glanced around the small bedroom one last time: the room held no happy memories for him. He was glad that he was finally getting out of there, promising himself that he would never return to his childhood home.
With Hedwig's cage under his arm, Harry picked up his Firebolt and Voldemort's letter/portkey using the same hand. Throwing his invisibility cloak over himself as best as he could, he grabbed hold of his trunk with his free hand.
"Goodbye Dursleys. I hope you rot in hell for all that you have done to me." His sneer turned into a chuckle as he realised he would never have to see his pathetic family again.
Looking back at the letter, he grew more serious: this was it.
'Well here goes nothing', he thought.
-Fortuna- he whispered in Parseltongue and, with a tug to his navel, Harry Potter disappeared from Privet Drive.
Just as Voldemort had promised, the portkey took Harry to the drop zone in the enclave just past the entrance of Knockturn Alley. Letting go of his trunk, Harry tucked his hand under the invisibility cloak to avoid letting anyone see what he was wearing.
Pulling out his wand, he transfigured his muggle clothes into a simple black robe. He checked to make sure that no one was looking his way before pulling off his invisibility cloak and storing it away in his robes.
Scanning his surroundings, Harry was surprised to see that, despite it being the middle of the night, the Alley didn't look half as scary as it had done the day he'd accidentally said the wrong Floo address and landed himself in Borgin and Burkes back in his second year.
Different coloured lights illuminated Knockturn Alley making it glow. There were still some people that looked extremely creepy, like what he now knew to be hags, lurking in the shadows, but there were many more wizards and witches milling around. It was breath-taking and Harry couldn't wait to explore it.
Grinning to himself, he turned his attention to his belongings and with a whispered "Reducio" he shrunk both his his trunk and Hedwig's cage before placing the two objects in his pocket.
Harry kept to the illuminated path as he walked down the alley, keeping away from the shadows where he was sure he would run into problems he didn't want to be dealing with. Trying to keep a calm and expressionless exterior was hard and he kept catching himself grinning at what he saw.
Feeling once more like he was eleven-years-old stepping foot into Diagon Alley for the first time, Harry admired Knockturn Alley with barely contained enthusiasm. He passed Borgin and Burkes, then a shop that seemed to sell writing utensils, before coming across Daxon's Tattoo Parlor. Harry, thinking that he might like a tattoo, made his way to the window to take a look inside.
The shop was covered in a multitude of different designs ranging from dragons, phoenixes and snakes, to Celtic crosses and runic symbols. Harry stared at the moving artwork for quite a while before noticing the box displayed in the window: not only did they do tattoos but also piercings. 'I am definitely coming back here when I get the chance', he thought, not being able to contain a grin as he turned away from the window.
Moving further down the alley Harry noticed that there were many little side lanes leading away from Knockturn Alley, making him very curious as to what he would find down there. The most interesting by far though, had to be the sheer number of weird and wonderful shops, most of which, lacked a name or the writing on their signs was so old that it had become illegible. So far the only names Harry had been able to read were of shops that could be found in Diagon Alley as well: there was a robe shop by the name of Madame Robin; right next to it was Zaed's Cauldron Shop; a few doors down there was an Exotic Magical Pets and Supplies; and beside that was Locomotor Trunks (All shapes and sizes).
Harry frowned at how entirely legal the Alley looked, yet he could feel an underlining sense of mysteriousness encompassing it. Narrowing his eyes, Harry noticed that no one hesitated to enter the nameless shops. 'Maybe there is a spell or something to stop outsiders from knowing what the shops are' he thought. He shrugged it off: he would worry about it later. He continued walking until he found himself front of Slaggers Magical Amulets. He looked to the building next to it and, sure enough, there stood the Doxy Closet.
The inside was not so different from the Leaky Cauldron: long wooden tables covered most of the stone floor, lanterns hung from the roof and torches from the walls, a long counter taking up the right side of the room. Stepping inside, Harry was quite happy to find that it was bustling with people and his entrance was all but ignored. Moving past the crowd at the tables, Harry made his was over to the bar and sat down on a stool.
"What can I get ya, laddie?" the barman asked. He was a tall, burly man with a shaved head and a scarred face, but he seemed friendly enough.
Clearing his throat to cover his sudden nervousness, Harry said: "I believe that you have a room reserved for me under the name of Blake. Harrison Blake." The barman raised an eyebrow.
"You him then?"
At Harry's nod he continued: "The room was reserved for you, and we have already received payment for the first month, though we was wondering if ya was ever gonna show." The man chuckled to himself.
"Sorry, I was just resolving some personal matters." Harry tried to sound apologetic.
"You're not running away from your folks; are you kid?" He said, eying Harry suspiciously.
"No. Not that it's any of your business! My parents died when I was a baby and my guardian passed away recently" Harry snapped, coldly not liking how the man was looking at him.
"Alright then kid. No need to get snippy with me! I am just trying to do my job."
"And how in Merlin's name is interrogating your clients part of your job?" Harry spat, sneering at the man. 'He is a barman not some bloody Auror!'
"Well, I don't care where you came from, I just care who you're bringing in here with you. I don't take too kindly to the official sort if ya get my meaning. So, as long as ye are not some runaway that parents will want to hunt down, we are going to get along just fine" he gave Harry a wolfish grin, walking to the back of the bar.
Harry relaxed when the man stopped asking him questions. It now kind of made sense why the barman was interrogating him and it comforted him knowing that the Doxy Closet was as eager to avoid ministry detection as him. The barman returned and placed a dirty key on the counter in front of Harry, who picked it up and looked at the tag attached to it: number 12.
'There ya go lad. All done. No more interrogating. It was not so bad, eh."
"No." Harry mumbled, flushing slightly in embarrassment. The barman sympathetic to his discomfort, reached under the counter, grabbed a bottle of butterbeer and passed it to him with a nod.
"Here, take this. It's on the house. By the way the name's Chez."
Harry grinned and took the butterbeer. "Thanks Chez, I am Harrison if you didn't already know. I'm sorry I got all snappy with you before, it's been a rough couple of days."
"That's alright kid. Sides I can already tell ye're a decent person Harrison just by looking at ya. No harm done."
"Well kid, I gotta get back to work. If ya need any help while ye staying here don't be fraid to ask, kay?" receiving a nod from Harry, Chez went back to work.
Harry quickly finished his butterbeer and left the bar. To the far corner was a staircase that led to the rooms. Harry worked his way through the crowd, up the stairs and to his room, which was down the corridor on the right. He touched the handle and felt a hum of magic pulse around him. Shrugging it off, he opened the door taking in the room. It wasn't anything special: a window opposite the door overlooked Knockturn Alley, a four poster bed took up the centre of the room, a locked trunk resting at its feet, a wardrobe rested against the wall on the left of the bed and a desk and a bookshelf were in the opposite corner from where he was standing, next to a door that he presumed led to the bathroom.
Walking further into the room he noticed that some books had already been placed in the bookshelf and a letter had been left on the desk. Ignoring the letter for now, already knowing who it was from, he shut the door, taking out his trunk and Hedwig's cage and resizing them. He replaced the trunk at the end of the bed with his own and put Hedwig's cage on the owl stand that he noticed hiding behind the door.
Next, he had a quick look at the books Voldemort had left him: Untraceable Magical Disguises (mentioned in Voldemort's letter), The True History of the Dark Arts, Tradition and Pureblooded Etiquette, Elemental Spells: An Introduction, Advanced Defense of the Dark Arts, Dark Arts: Basics for Beginners, Battle Transfiguration, Journeyman: Battle Magics, The Noble Tongue, Charka and the path to Control, A Guide to Manoeuvring around Knockturn Alley and Blood Magic: Protection Rituals.
Harry gaped at all the new knowledge available to him. He was itching to get started reading: he didn't even care that Voldemort chucked an etiquette book in there as well. Harry chuckled: he couldn't believe that Voldemort even got him a book to help him navigate his new surroundings.
Turning his attention away from the bookshelf, he picked up the letter reading his alias' name, Harrison Blake, in Voldemort's elegant handwriting. Turning over the envelope, Harry frowned: all the letters he'd received from Voldemort thus far had been sealed with the Dark Mark, but this time it was just plain red wax. Wasting no time, Harry opened the letter pulling out the parchment.
Mr. Harrison Blake,
Firstly, let me welcome you to Knockturn Alley, I am sure that with you around things are bound to become more interesting. With that being said, try not to get yourself into too much trouble; however, this being you, I am aware that's easier said than done, so I have included amongst your books A Guide to Maneuvering around Knockturn Alley. I would advise you to read and understand it all before you start venturing out in the Alley.
If you turn your attention to the top drawer of your desk, you should find inside the key to the trunk in the room. Inside the trunk is a warded room that you can use to practice the more damaging spells that I want you to learn. I will of course go over the particulars of the room in our lessons.
Harry couldn't help the excited glance towards the trunk beside him. He was going to put it to very good use: he was already dying to get down there, but made himself finish reading the letter first.
Beside the key there is also a navy blue, velvet pouch. As I have told you in previous letters, it's not safe for you to visit Gringotts at the moment. I am sure that in a couple of months from now you'll be able to make a trip to the bank, but in the meantime you will have to accept my generosity.
Harry cringed at the word generosity: he hated how Voldemort thought Harry could only rely on him. 'It won't be for long', he promised himself. Opening the drawer, he pulled out the bag of Galleons and looked inside. Harry gasped at how much was in there. 'What the hell is Voldemort playing at?' Harry cringed once once more before turning back to the letter.
I would advise that you use this money to buy yourself some wizarding attire, the more non-descriptive the better and NO Muggle wear: you would stand out far too much and cause yourself too many unnecessary problems. The second thing I want you to do is get yourself down to the Oculist and have your eyesight fixed: it's a weakness that you need to be rid of immediately.
Lastly, I believe I have found the answer to our problem concerning the mark I gave you all that time ago. Take a look in the book on Blood Magic on page 243. Blood Magic is considered Dark, so I will leave it to you to decide if you want to go through with the ritual.
Remember that you said you would contact me as soon as you got to Knockturn Alley: if you haven't already, then do it now!
Harry let the letter fall back onto the desk before beginning to laugh. 'Did Voldemort really just refer to himself as Tom Riddle?' Shaking his head at the weirdness of it all, Harry sat down on his bed. Running a hand down his face, he tried to collect his thoughts: he knew he needed to contact Voldemort, but the possibility of being able to hide his scar from everyone was too tempting. Harry looked over to the bookshelf with anticipation and came to a decision. 'Surely Voldemort can wait a few more moments.' He grinned, shrugging to himself.
Harry selected the right book and sat down with it at the desk. Opening it to the required page, Harry began to read intently and soon found the spell that would act as a powerful concealing glamour on his scar, although the book did warn that the spell would be ineffectual against some magical creatures that had the ability to see through ignored the warning about the magical creatures, Voldemort wouldn't recommend it if he wasn't sure it would keep Harry concealed and the only way to undo the glamour was to repeat the ritual whilst casting the counter-spell, so it was the perfect solution.
He read over the instructions one more time before heading to the bathroom. Standing in front of the mirror, Harry wiped off the makeup he'd used to conceal his scar so far and pulled his wand and glasses out from his robe pocket. Transfiguring his glasses into a knife, Harry cut the palm of his left hand and, looking at himself in the mirror, he slowly brought his hand up to rub blood over the scar, chanting the concealment spell.
His scar begun to get itchy as he started the spell, the discomfort growing as he continued chanting, until the itch turned into a fierce burning sensation, which was immediately followed by a rush of seductive power before it was all over. Harry removed his hand from his scar, his eyes going wide as he stepped closer to the mirror to admire the fact that the skin on his forehead was now completely unblemished. Harry used his hand to wipe away the excess blood for a better look and grinned with elation. The grin turned into a cringe of pain as the place where his scar had been started burning.
What are you doing Harry?
He hissed, sucking in a harsh breath and pressed his bloody palm to his scar smearing more blood onto his forehead. Obviously hiding the scar did not remove the pain Voldemort inflicted on him. Taking deep breaths Harry tried to work through the pain in order to answer.
'Bloody hell Voldemort! You need to find a way to stop hurting me every time you call. It's inconvenient. I can hardly hold a conversation with you when I am kneeling over in pain.' Harry thought as he gripped the edges of the basin.
Am I interrupting something? You seem distracted.
Harry groaned as he felt Voldemort's amusement. 'Give me a moment, will you? I need to clean myself up.'
Harry sighed in relief as Voldemort removed himself from his mind before turning on the taps of the basin and sticking his left hand under the water. He washed off most of the blood before healing the cut with a swish of his wand. He then lent over and washed his face, the cold water helping to cool down his scar. Finished sorting himself out, Harry dried himself with the nearest towel.
Taking a look at himself in the mirror he could see that even with Voldemort popping into his head, the concealment charm still held. Bracing himself, he called out to Voldemort, letting him know that he was ready. Voldemort wasted no time invading his mind again, although this time he seemed to ease in, allowing Harry time to get used to him: it still burned, but Harry could think more clearly.
I thought I told you to contact me as soon as you got to Knockturn Alley. Why did you wait?
'I was saving myself a headache. What do you think people would have thought of me collapsing to the ground in pain? It would have caused a huge scene. Then when I got into my room I was excited about finding a way to cover my scar and decided that you could wait a few minutes, sorry.' Harry hoped that Voldemort was in a good mood and would accept his excuses.
There was a long pause before Voldemort answered: I suggest that next time you don't keep me waiting: I don't like being dismissed Harry. Now look in the mirror. I want to see how well the concealment charm worked.
Harry raised his head and looked at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. It felt strange knowing that someone was looking through your eyes.
Yes, now you know how it feels for me when you look through my eyes.
'Do you have to listen to every thought I have? It's unnerving.' Harry thought, shuddering.
It's kind of hard not to when you broadcast your thoughts so loudly. Anyway, we are getting off topic. I suggest you read the book on disguises tonight and tomorrow morning I shall walk you through the right charms.
Harry nodded, knowing Voldemort would see the action through the mirror.
It's good that we've found a way to cover your scar, but I am concerned about how we are going to work through your lessons if you're in constant pain...hmmm give me some time, I think I will be able to come up with something.
Harry scowled. 'Great. Thanks a lot. What do you suppose I do in the meantime, have my head explode?' he complained, sarcastically. Harry pushed himself off the basin and left the bathroom, heading to his bed. He sat down, swinging his legs up, leaning against the headboard and rubbing his temples. 'What do you think is causing the scar to hurt so much?' he enquired.
I believe it has to do with the two conflicting magics: the protection from your mother is very Light, whilst my magic is very Dark and they seem to be fighting each other for dominance. The protection broke the night of my return, but there seems to be a lingering presence left over. At the moment I can only see two options: we can either destroy what is left over from the protection, or...
'Or what?' Harry could feel Voldemort deep in contemplation.
By the way Harry, how did you like your first bit of Dark magic? I am curious, how did you feel after you finished the chant? Did it make you feel weird and dirty or did it give you a rush?
Harry was confused: what did that have to do with their conversation, but he decided to answer anyway: 'I don't know since you decided to pop into my head…' he started grumbling, but he stopped short as he suddenly remembered that almost sensual feeling. He closed his eyes, reviewing the memory and, yes, there it was, the rush of seductive power he felt as he completed the spell. Just remembering it made his body tingle all over. He felt
Voldemort's amusement as his cold laughter reached his ears.
'What's so funny?' he enquired.
Oh Harry, you are delightful! Before we go over your options with dealing with your scar, let me explain something to you. In our world there are three different magical affiliations: Dark, Light and Neutral. The magic you learn at school is mostly neutral as it can be used by all, but mostly because it is the only type of magic that muggleborns can control.
'That doesn't make any sense. Everyone knows that Light magic is taught at school and what is this about the muggleborns? They are no different than us!' Harry frowned, he hoped this was not some propaganda bullshit that purebloods threw around to get people to listen to them.
Harry we will be here all night if you keep questioning me. How about you listen to what I have to say before you talk. At Harry's mental nod, Voldemort begun to explain magic and blood in a way that left Harry very conflicted.
Firstly, we are talking about magical affiliations. Anyone can cast any type of magic if they're powerful enough and bother to learn it, but a wizard's affinity for certain magics will make it easier or harder for them to learn and perform certain spells.
Pureblood and Half-Blood wizards will feel a powerful tug on their magic, calling them to either the Light or the Dark. These wizards will have a natural affinity to their chosen side, which will enable them to cast spells of that nature more easily.
Muggleborns on the other hand, are born neutral and will always remain neutral. That's not to say that they can't perform Dark and Light spells, they will just find it harder as their affinity is neutral.
'I don't understand what you're getting at.' Wasn't magic the same for everyone? Dumbledore said that it was their choices that makes them different, but now Voldemort was saying that they are born with an affinity to a certain type of magic. Voldemort ignored his internal struggle, continuing his explanation.
Your magical affinity is developed over time due to a combination of different factors. The first thing to take into consideration is your lineage. After birth everyone is more likely to go one way or another based on the affinity of their bloodline, but this can be overpowered by other factors. One of those factors is the way you are raised, and another is free will. You consciously choose what type of magic you use and practice it more often than the others. The more you work on spells that lean towards one side or the other, the more your affinity for that side will increase.
Take your godfather for example, he was born a Dark wizard and practiced the Dark Arts until he was sixteen, which was when he ran away from home. Due to his bloodline, training and use of the Dark Arts, Black's affinity has always been Dark. You, on the other hand Harry, were born to be a Light wizard, but circumstances put you with muggles. You mainly learnt neutral spells with only the occasional Light spell, so maybe you do still have a Light affinity, or it's even possible for you to be very Neutral in your magic.
But after feeling what you felt when you cast that concealment charm, I would say that you are close to developing a Dark affinity. Usually when a Light wizard casts Dark magic they will feel dirty, but if your magic is that way inclined, then Dark magic will feel like a rush of power: it will leave you feeling exhilarated.
'So I'm a Dark Wizard?' Harry frowned: how was that possible when he came from a Light family? Voldemort's amusement felt sinister to Harry as it reached him across the link.
Well not yet, dear Harry, but there is potential...so much potential. I think your potential affinity may have something to do with my Horcrux residing in you. At the moment you are more neutral than anything, but you also have the potential to be a Dark wizard. Incidentally, I believe that if you were to become a Dark wizard, our problem regarding your mother's protection would be resolved.
Of course Voldemort would suggest that he become Dark. Harry scowled: 'You said that there were two options to get rid of the protection. I don't think that becoming a Dark wizard just to stop my scar hurting is worth it. What is my other option?' He didn't like how easily Voldemort had gotten him to consider turning Dark. He shuddered at the thought of being anything like Voldemort. No, becoming a Dark wizard was not an option.
Hmmm… you say that now Harry, but I believe you will change your mind eventually. That is neither here nor there right now though. The only other option is for you to come see me so I can destroy the protection.
'That's not happening Voldemort!' he almost growled the thought.
Shame. I guess you'll just have to put up with the pain until I find a different solution.
'Fine then. Pain it is. If that is all Voldemort, I would like to go to bed now.' He knew he sounded impudent but he didn't like where the conversation was heading.
Not so fast Harry, I am not done with you yet. Tomorrow morning, I will return to talk to you and I want you in your room by seven in the evening. Make sure you have dinner beforehand: you will need all your strength. Read up on the Occulmency books the old man sent you because as of tomorrow night I will begin teaching you Occulmency. I also want to make sure you know a few spells to hide your trace even though the Alley, as you correctly assumed, will cover your signature. It's better to take precautions: we don't want the Order finding out where you are. Do try to make sure you're on time next time: I am not above using pain to get you to cooperate.
'Like I wasn't aware of that already.' Harry rolled his eyes, sending as much sarcasm as he could through the link.
Brat, watch your tongue... Harry simply huffed, making Voldemort chuckle.
Have a good night, Harry. Voldemort said, finally withdrawing from his mind.
Harry yawned, jumping off the bed. As he was getting ready for bed it occurred to him than when Voldemort threatened him and called him a brat, he hadn't done it in the usual menacing way: it almost seemed as if he was being affectionate. Harry laughed at the thought: there was no way that Voldemort had even a single affectionate bone in his body!
Dumbledore's Office: Hogwarts
Meanwhile in an office in Scotland, the monitors, recording the wards surrounding Privet Drive started flashing. A loud siren interrupted the silence before the lights dimmed down, going out altogether.
Unfortunately, the office was empty at the time, so the news of Harry Potter leaving his home never reached the master of the wards.
It would take three days for the Headmaster of Hogwarts to realise that Harry Potter had left his aunt's house for good and by then it would be too late.