Rise of a Dark Queen
Disclaimer: I do not under any circumstances own any of the recognisable characters, scenes, places etc. With the exception of the odd original character that may or may not be included at some point in the story, as well as the phrases or spells which would have been translated into the appropriate languages via internet translation websites. I apologise now in advance if any of the translations are incorrect, languages are not my strong point. Any other recognisable work belongs to the appropriate owners and if quotes/songs are used I will hopefully have the right information to credit to the owners.
A.N: this story is heavily A.U and though there are certain events from canon that remain the same or key points are there but done slightly different it fits firmly into the; what ifs? Of the world since I am a firm fan of this type of fan fiction. If this is not something you like then don't read.
I am influenced by everything I read, see and hear in everyday life and multiple fan fictions, published work; films may have greatly influenced me when writing this story. I apologise now if it seems to similar to another piece of work on this site, it was never my intention and I hope you are able to stick with it long enough to see the differences, upon saying that I have not read every fan fiction on here either. It was also never my intention to make it seem like a crossover fan fiction and there also maybe many myths and legends influencing the story here from across the world. Another key warning: this is a female Harry Potter, this story will be dark, mature and depending on your view point boarder horror and much, much more again if this is something you don't like please do not read, and though it may start of slow the further along the story is written the darker it gets.
Another final warning, my spelling, grammar and all else isn't perfect. Any mistake that is made is mine solely and I hope that they were few and far between. If mistakes are obvious and are happening regularly by all means let me know and I will correct them. All reviews are welcome however if you are flaming for the sake of flaming then I really don't want to know. I am not a published author, I am not perfect and I am not making money out of this. This story is purely for fun and I am writing it for my enjoyment, if others enjoy it as well then that is an added plus.
Enjoy, and remember I do not own the story, characters or anything else, but the time it has taken me to write and that was given freely.
Godric's Hollow; Great Britain.
Saturday the 31st October 1981
Grindelwald couldn't help but snort at the predictability of Albus Dumbledore. He had known for the last few months that the Potters were hiding in Godric's Hollow, the very place that he and Dumbledore had met many years ago, the man was a sentimental old fool and it would be that fact that would be his undoing, once of course he had destroyed the child of the prophecy and the girl's mother. Once that was done there was little that would stand in his way or that of his heir, together the two of them were simply too strong. All he had needed was the missing piece of the puzzle, the exact location of their house, the secret that their Secret Keeper so willingly divulged the moment he became Secret Keeper and now it was time to destroy the threat before the child could become exactly that, a threat.
The words for the Killing Curse had been on the tip of his tongue the moment he blasted the front door open, not giving the occupants a chance to even put up a fight, Potter fell dead in a matter of seconds, it was a waste of a son of the pureblood line, but he was little more than a blood traitor and a means to an end.
And now he was here, standing with nothing but a door and his true target, it was almost laughable how easy it had been. The lights supposed saviour hadn't even had the proper protections that would have befitted her and now he was going to snuff the life out of her. A careful flick of his wand and the door blasted inwards, and he came face to face with the girl's mother, a fiery red haired witch whose power was dripping off her. It was a pity she was a Mudblood, she was a powerful and pretty witch, who would have provided him with some entertainment at the very least, but she was impure and he would never sully himself with such a thing. The woman's green eyes flashed dangerously as raised her wand and took a defensive position.
'Stand aside you stupid girl!' he hissed at her.
'Never! I won't let you harm my daughter.'
'Do you think you could possibly stop me Mudblood, you barely have half the power I wield?' He laughed,
'I have enough. You aren't touching Hallie.' She spat, her wand raised before directing a curse at him. 'Confringo!'
Grindelwald narrowly stepped aside from the blasting curse before throwing his own back, but the Mudblood managed to deflect it. She shot another curse, this one surprised him he would never have suspected the Mudblood, to know the blood boiling curse, definitely a question of morality of someone who was supposedly light. He raised his wand, shielding himself and letting the curse hit the wall. There was no denying this woman was a lioness protecting her cub.
'Stand aside, Mudblood.' He hissed, 'This is your last chance unless you wish to join your husband and daughter.'
'Not Hallie! Not Hallie! Please – I'll do anything -' he was pleased to see a touch of hysteria had reached her voice, the woman was afraid, she was weak. He could feel the power rising in the room could feel the air thicken with magic that was neither light nor dark, it simply was. He looked at the woman in disbelief as she chanted a spell he had never heard before. Enough was enough, he needed to end this now a jet of green light the colour of the woman's eyes flew out from his wand and hit her in the chest. Her body crumpled to the floor face-down, her eyes wide with open surprise.
He stepped over the body making his way to the crib where the toothless girl sat staring up wide-eyed at him. He could detect no fear in her green eyes, the same as her mothers. She was pretty baby, or as pretty as babies could be, and if she wasn't destined to die tonight she would perhaps grow up one day to be a beautiful woman, but alas it was not meant to be.
'So little one, you have the power to destroy me and my heir.' He whispered softly, the girl was watching him, her eyes far to calm for a child her age when facing a threat, but she was exactly that. Calm! Almost as if she knew she was going to die and wasn't concerned with it.
'Goodbye child!' he raised his wand for the third time that night, the Killing Curse leaving his lips. 'Avada Kedavra!'
The magic that filled the air broke free the moment the curse left his lips, he watched in horror as the girls green eyes flashed black and she smiled as the curse hit her before bouncing, pain ripped through him as the magic tore him apart, rebounding from the girl and then he knew no more….
Voldemort felt the magic the moment he apparated onto the scene. It felt so enticingly good and powerful that he could barely suppress the shiver that ran down his body. He frowned immediately, the magic was dark, incredibly dark but he had never reacted like that before to dark magic, never before had he felt like he was an addict getting a fix but right now the air was alive with raw power and it was intoxicating, with the scent of jasmine on the air he knew without a doubt that his mentor was dead. The girl had actually defeated him, anger caroused through him, Grindelwald was an impulsive fool at times yes but he was a powerful wizard, a very powerful wizard who should not have been so easily destroyed.
Voldemort entered the house, barely sparing a glance at the fallen blood traitor and made his way directly to the room where he could feel the magic coming from the strongest. He saw the dead body of the mudblood on the floor and the scorched robes of Grindelwald but there was no sign of his body. So he is dead, in body at the very least, he mused before his eyes finally set on the child that had caused so much destruction and build up of power. The dark haired girl was sitting up in the bed, tears streaming down her face as blood dripped from her forehead, it was pathetic, a crying baby, though they were silent tears at least that was something. He moved closer to the girl, he had a job to finish, he would not let this child live tonight, he would succeeded where his mentor had failed and then he would work on the rest of their plans. But first things first, he raised his wand 'Nothing personal child, you simply cannot be allowed to live.' He hissed before saying the words. 'Aveda Kedavra!'
Voldemort watched in fascination as the green light flew straight towards the girl, watched as the magic in the air swirled around her protectively in greens, reds, silvers and golds but the most predominate was the black, dark magic, seamlessly absorbing the spell before firing it back directly at him. He didn't have time to dodge the spell, didn't have time to do anything but simply let the raw magic hit him and coarse through his body, he expected pain but it wasn't what he felt, he felt nothing but pure bliss, pure raw power running through him, lighting his body on fire, he drunk it up greedily and readily but it was too much and it was already starting to consume him, every nerve ending within him was tingling with pleasure and just as quickly as it was there it was gone.
Tom Riddle fell to the floor gasping for breath and hating himself for the moment of weakness, but he felt cold, so cold and numb. Empty inside, that magic had been….addictive…but so good, so delicious, so dark….he stared at the girl in shock; who was watching him curiously, her green eyes staring at him. She hadn't died, she had survived yet another killing curse and not only that she had ripped away his glamour's as Voldemort and returning him to his rightful state. So he couldn't kill her yet, with magic, but that didn't mean he wouldn't find a way.
'I have a feeling child you are going to be more trouble than first thought.' He hissed in Parseltongue 'Brat.'
'Brat!' the girl hissed back at him.
He stared at her, the girl had just spoken in Parseltongue, well that certainly changed things. He watched as she smiled at him as he picked her up, he couldn't help but smirk in return.
'Maybe I won't kill you yet.'
She didn't respond, instead he watched in horror as she rested her head on his shoulder, a small hand going for his hair and fingers began to twist them around. He sneered; 'Stop that!' but the girl blatantly ignored him. I am one of the most feared Dark Lords and yet a baby doesn't fear me, this is ridiculous he thought before apparating out of the destroyed house and as close to Hogwarts as he could.
Tuesday 3rd November 1981
When Mr and Mrs Dursley woke up on the dull, grey Tuesday little did they know that their lives were about to be drastically changed. There was nothing about the cloudy sky outside to suggest that strange and mysterious things would soon be happening all over the country and that it would soon call at number 4 Privet Drive.
Dark grey clouds lay thick across the night sky, obscuring the stars that were shinning bright. In fact the sky looked so dark and grey it seemed that the very heavens wanted to break forth. A cat sat on the wall outside a house in a street that looked like nothing extraordinary could ever happen. The cat didn't so much as quiver when a car door slammed in the next street, nor when two owls swooped overhead. In fact, it was nearly midnight before the cat moved at all.
A man appeared on the corner on the cat had been watching, appeared so suddenly and silently you'd have thought he'd just popped out of the ground. The cat's tail twitched and its eyes narrowed. Nothing like this man had ever seen in Privet Drive. He was tall, thin and very old, judging by the silver of his hair and beard, which were both long enough to tuck into his belt. He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak which swept the ground and high-heeled, buckled boots. His blue eyes were light, bright and sparkling behind half-moon spectacles and his nose was very long and crooked, as though it had been broken at least twice. This man's name was Albus Dumbledore. He approached the cat with a very amused expression on his face, as if he wasn't surprised to see it there at all.
'Fancy seeing you here Professor McGonagall.'
He turned to smile at the tabby, but it had gone. Instead he was smiling at a rather severe-looking woman who was wearing square glasses exactly the shape of the markings the cat had around its eyes. She, too, was wearing a cloak, an emerald one. Her black hair was drawn into a tight bun. She looked distinctly ruffled.
'How did you know it was me?' she asked.
'My dear Professor, I've never seen a cat sit so stiffly.'
'You'd be stiff if you'd been sitting on a brick wall all day,' Professor McGonagall sniffed angrily.
'All day? When you could have been celebrating? I must have passed a dozen feasts and parties on my way here.'
'Oh yes, everyone's celebrating all right.' She said impatiently. 'You'd think they'd be a bit more careful, but no – even the Muggles have noticed something's going on. It was on their news.'
'You can't blame them.' Dumbledore replied gently. 'We've had precious little to celebrate for a very long time. Almost fifty years to be precise.'
'I know that,' Professor McGonagall answered irritably. 'But that's no reason to lose our heads. People are being downright careless, out on the streets in broad daylight, not even dressed in Muggle clothes, swapping rumours.'
She threw a sharp, sideways glance at Dumbledore, as though hoping he was going to tell her something, but he didn't, so she went on: 'A fine thing it would be if, just days after Grindelwald disappeared at last, the Muggles found out about us all. I suppose he really has gone, Dumbledore?'
'It certainly seems so.' Dumbledore answered.
'And his heir?'
'There has been no sign of either.'
'What they're saying,' she carried on, 'is that last night Grindelwald turned up in Godric's Hollow. He went to find the Potters. The rumour is that Lily and James Potter are – are that they're – dead.'
Dumbledore bowed his head. Professor McGonagall gasped.
'Lily and James…..I can't believe it … I didn't want to believe it …..Oh Albus….'
Dumbledore reached out and patted her on the shoulder. 'I know….I know…' he said heavily.
Professor McGonagall's voice trembled as she went on. 'That's not all. They're saying he tried to kill the girl, little Hallie. But – he couldn't. He couldn't kill the girl. No one knows why, or how, but they're saying that when he couldn't kill Hallie Potter, Grindelwald power somehow broke and that's why he's gone.'
Dumbledore nodded glumly.
'It's – it's true?' she faltered. 'After all he's done…..all the people he's killed….he couldn't kill the girl? It's astounding ….of all the things to stop him….but how in the name of heaven did she survive?'
'We can only guess.' Dumbledore answered, 'We may never know.'
Professor McGonagall pulled out a lace handkerchief and dabbed at her eyes beneath her spectacles. Dumbledore gave a great sniff as he took a golden watch from his pocket and examined it. It was a very odd watch. It had twelve hands but no numbers; instead, little planets were moving around the edge. It must have made sense and said, 'Hagrid's late. I suppose it was he who told you I'd be here, by the way?'
'Yes.' she answered. 'And I don't suppose you're going to tell me why you're here of all places.'
'I've come to bring the Hallie to her aunt and uncle. They're the only family she has left now.'
'You don't mean – you can't mean the people who live here?' cried Professor McGonagall, jumping to her feet and pointing at number four. 'Dumbledore – you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son – I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Hallie Potter come and live here!'
'It's the best place for her.' Dumbledore said firmly. 'Her aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to her when she is older. I've written a letter.'
'A letter?' repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. 'Everyone in our world will know the girls name, and you have written a letter to explain things to her.'
'Exactly.' Dumbledore replied, looking very seriously over the top of his half-moon glasses. 'It would be enough to turn any one's head. Famous before she can walk and talk! Famous for something she won't even remember! Can't you see how much better off she will be, growing up away from all that until she is ready to take it?'
Professor McGonagall opened her mouth, changed her mind, swallowed and then said 'Yes – yes, you're right, of course. But how is she getting here, Dumbledore?' She eyes his cloak suddenly as though she thought he might be hiding the baby underneath it.
Dumbledore didn't have the chance to answer, a low rumbling sound had broken the silence around them. It grew steadily louder as they looked up and down the street for some sign of a headlight, it swelled to a roar as they both looked up at the sky – and a huge motorbike fell out of the air and landed on the road in front of them.
If the motorbike was huge, it was nothing to the man sitting astride it. He was almost twice as tall as a normal man and at least five times as wide. He looked simply too big to be allowed and so wild – long tangles of bushy black hair and beard hid most of his face, he hand hands the size of dustbin lids and his feet in their leather boots were like baby dolphins. In his vast, muscular arms he was holding a bundle of blankets.
'Hagrid.' Dumbledore whispered, sounding relieved. 'At last. And where did you get the motorbike?'
'Borrowed it, Professor Dumbledore, sir.' The giant replied, climbing carefully off the motorbike as he spoke. 'Young Sirius Black lent it me. I've got her, sir.'
'No problems were there?'
Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall bent forward over the bundle of blankets. Inside, just visible, was a baby girl who had a mop of raven black hair and a lightning bolt shaped scar just visible on her forehead, her bright green eyes were wide open and watching the three of them curiously, there was a small smile on her lips as she took in the world around her.
'Is that where -?' whispered Professor McGonagall.
'Yes.' Dumbledore replied. 'She will have that scar for the rest of her life.'
'Couldn't you do something about it, Dumbledore?'
'Even if I could, I wouldn't. Scars can come in useful. I have one myself above my left knee which is a perfect map of the London Underground. Well – give her here, Hagrid – we'd better get this over with.'
Dumbledore took the girl into his arms who laughed lightly at the old wizard and turned towards the Dursley's house.
'Could I – could I say goodbye to her sir?' asked Hagrid.
He bent his great, shaggy head over the baby and gave her what must have been a very scratchy kiss. Then suddenly he let out a howl like a wounded dog.
'Shh!' hissed Professor McGonagall.
'It is not goodbye forever Hagrid.' Dumbledore soothed. He laid the girl gently on the doorstep, took a letter out of his cloak, tucked it inside the blankets and then came back to the other two. For a full minute the three of them stood and looked at the little bundle; Hagrid's shoulder shook, Professor McGonagall blinked furiously and the twinkling light that usually shone from Dumbledore's eyes seemed to have gone out.
'Well.' Dumbledore said finally, 'That's that. We've no business staying here. We may as well go and join the celebrations.'
One by one the three of them disappeared, Dumbledore being the last to leave gave one last glance over his shoulder, just able to see the bundle of blankets.
'Good luck Hallie.' He whispered before disappearing.
A breeze ruffled the neat hedges of Privet Drive, which lay silent and tidy under the inky sky, the very place you would expect astonishing things to happen. Hallie Potter rolled over inside her blankets and fell fast asleep. One small hand closed on the letter beside her. She slept on through the night, not knowing that she was special, not knowing that she was famous, not knowing she would be woken in a few hours time by Mrs Dursley's screams as she opened the front door to put out the milk bottle, nor that she would spend the next few weeks being prodded and pinched by her cousin Dudley….She couldn't know that at this very moment, people meeting in secret all over the country were holding up their glasses and saying in hushed voices: To Hallie Potter – the Girl who Lived!