Two different futures, yet so little difference.
He danced to a tune that only he could hear.
It was beautiful. It pounded deep inside him, mirroring the frenzied beating of his heart as a yell of exhilaration was pulled out of his mouth. It was swamping him with feeling and adrenaline as his eyes darted around only marginally faster than his wand.
The spells raced at him, a kaleidoscope of pain, certain death, and probably dismemberment. The color green was so familiar to Harry that sometimes he wondered what it would feel like to touch it again. The color gold was familiar too; it was the gold glistening inside his Gringotts vault, it was Helga Hufflecup's cup, it was the spark in Hermione's eyes as she rambled about a new book. The red that flew at him was undoubtedly Weasley hair.
The colors of the spells reminded Harry of so many things that he didn't feel the fear that he felt he should. Perhaps he had cheated Death too many times to truly fear for his life. Whatever the reason, Harry found himself elated as he spun around, magic flashing wildly towards those in dark robes.
It was funny how practitioners of Dark magic were so fixated on portraying themselves a certain way. They always wore black, rarely adding a touch of green or silver. It was almost as if they were trying to convince themselves more than anyone else that they were truly Dark and evil. They were bunnies, the lot of them, Harry thought fondly.
After defeating Voldemort and a slew of hopefuls that appeared just a few years following his defeat, the attempts of dark wizards nowadays were simply pathetic.
Probably from a lack of proper dark magic teachers. Not even sorry at all, Harry thought whimsically, throwing a tickling jinx at the dark wizard in front of him just for old-time's sake.
The dark wizard looked so confused right before the jinx hit him that Harry almost dropped his wand, snickering.
"Is this the best the Dark side can do now? Has the recruitment been bad lately?" Harry taunted, gazing approvingly as the wizard threw off the tickling jinx after a few seconds. "You should probably improve the qualities of your cookies."
The dark wizard stared uncomprehendingly at Harry. Harry lowered his wand, sighing dramatically. "The Internet has been around for a long time. Woe the poor fools who have not experienced its allure!" Harry had to thank Hermione for actually chivvying him into brushing up on his knowledge for Muggle technology. He had so many things he could say to the silly rulebreakers he ended up fighting.
The dark wizard shook his head suddenly before lifting his wand and throwing out the same red curse that he had shot fifteen times before. The lack of originality was terribly worrying. How was Harry to gain enjoyment from fighting dark wizards if they were so boring and predictable? Harry wasn't sure how to drag this duel out longer; his patience was slipping.
Harry dodged, deciding to try out a new move he had been practicing. He shot a series of stunners in rapid succession before tensing his knees and flying.
The walls and ceiling blurred past his vision, mightily reminiscent of the time before Harry had his eyes fixed. Harry flung his arm in the direction of the dark wizard and spat out a fun little curse that he had created during a particularly long period between action. As his feet touched down from his showy, entirely unnecessary backflip, Harry noted that the dark wizard's attempt to dodge was so terrible he literally walked into the curse. Harry watched, eyebrow raised, as the wizard's eyes widened.
"What have you done to me?" the wizard cried, waving his wand wildly in Harry's direction.
"Expelliarmus," Harry said lazily, catching the wizard's wand in his hand. "I think it's time I take you into custody. Read you your rights and all that."
"What did you do?" the wizard said, hands reaching up to his face. "What am I seeing?"
Harry did nothing but smirk evilly despite knowing that the wizard would not see his expression. "I always thought the world would be better if dark wizards had watched cartoons as children," Harry commented offhandedly as he bound the wizard with ropes and apparated them back to Auror headquarters.
"No!" the wizard yelled. "They're muggle!"
"Such torture, I'm sure," Harry said with a sigh. Now it was time for paperwork.
Harry's lips stretched into an evil smile as he watched his dark curse rip an Auror's head right off his body. It was grotesquely beautiful. Maybe next time he would conjure a canvas behind someone's head. He was sure the blood spatters would look very artistic and would match the decor in his throne room rather well.
A yellow curse flew by him. Even though it was several feet away, Harry could sense that it was meant for him. He turned around, eyes seeking through the dark roiling mass of battle the person who has sent it.
Oh, there. A young witch, hand clutching her wand so tightly that her fingers would soon be damaged from lack of blood. How amusing. She probably had not intended to attack him alone.
Definitely a Gryffindor, Harry cackled.
"Hello, dear," Harry said, stalking through the battle, throwing up a visible black shield of sparking magic to ensure that no pesky curse would strike him as he walked closer to his new quarry. "It's polite to introduce yourself before you send a curse at someone's back. It wasn't a very chivalrous move. I can begin. You may know me as Dark Lord Potter. What is your name?"
The witch trembled, pale face surrounded by sweaty locks. "Auror Merland."
Harry smiled wider, letting one long fang show. With a pinch of effort, he squeezed out a thin amount of venom, letting it glisten on the tip like colorless death. "Now that we have gotten acquainted," Harry said, dipping into an outrageous bow, "I believe we can begin!"
The Auror jerked forward in a terrible imitation of a proper bow. Harry sighed. Nobody ever played along. The Light side was always extolling the use of manners but he had yet to meet a Light wizard that would actually be courteous. Well, one could hope.
"Ignis repandi," Harry called, spinning his wand around in a circle followed by a short jab and a flick downwards. He watched lovingly as flowers made of fire flowed out of his wand, drifting down to the floor and rooting themselves in the marble floor with pops and cracks as the stone gave way before them.
"Isn't that a pretty sight?" Harry asked. "I do love this spell."
"Incendio!" the auror called. "Impedimenta! Stupefy! Petrificus Totalus!"
"Dear," Harry said, brushing them aside like cobwebs, "this isn't Hogwarts."
With nary a thought from Harry, the flowers bloomed and the auror suddenly became a lot crispier than before. A stray thought entered Harry's mind. Would werewolves eat cooked human meat? What an interesting question. He'd have to test it out sometime.
Harry turned back to the battle, loosening himself into the fray. Some of his followers told him that he was being too foolhardy by involving himself so directly, but Harry always smiled. If someone truly got the better of him, then Harry would be alright with it. So far, nobody had even come close.
The swell of bloodlust always felt heady, as if Harry had just drunk very well aged wizarding mead. The world was a whirlwind of colors and magic and Harry was nothing but a shadow that flitted everywhere, taking his enjoyment where he could. Most people didn't bother challenging him directly. That only forced him to seek out opponents.
Sometimes, Harry thought that he had become a Dark Lord for the unending line of enemies he was sure to have more than the promise of a better, reformed future or of the lure of Dark magic.
Harry set his sights on a grizzled auror, whistling. The auror whirled around, eyes widening. Harry dropped into an exaggerated bow, watching the auror from behind his second eyelids. Sometimes he regretted that the basilisk poison he had ingested so long ago had reacted so oddly with some of the rituals he had done. He could admit that basilisk eyes were certainly helpful, but keeping them lidded was so frustrating.
The auror bowed back, eyes never leaving Harry's face. Harry's grin, already horribly wide, turned positively gleeful.
Harry threw himself forward, already throwing a particularly exciting curse he had read about the other day...
I wanted to explore the idea of Harry being addicted to battle lust...no matter which side he played for.