Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, I wish I did.

Author's Notes: This is the final beta-ed version of the first chapter. If you read my first AN, then you would know that this story was spawned from the challenge on Demon God of Chaos' website. However, I've since decided to take this story in a different direction, effectively lowering the rating to M instead of NC-17.

To all those wondering, no there is no, or never was, any smut written. Sorry! I was planning on writing those scenes when I finished the challenge, but, with my plans changed, I don't have any desire to write any smut. Sorry once again!

A big thanks to sea0tter12 for beta-ing my story.

Harry Potter and the Consuming Darkness

Chapter 1

A cool breeze escaped from the brisk afternoon sky in downtown London and lightly caressed the sides of the walls before making its round trip and settling across the face of one Harry Potter. As he lay on a large chaise lounge, he scanned his surroundings, instincts after years of war taking effect. He carefully mapped out his exit in case of an attack, not just one, but at least four. His lightning bolt scar, one the entire Wizarding World knew, was fading. Once a thin crimson zig-zag pattern, it was now a small brown streak dashed across his forehead, tingling not because of danger, but with phantom pains and a reminder of a time not long past.

"Relax, Harry," a new, soothing voice said, as if reading his mind and watching his eyes flicker all over the office. Harry allowed himself a rare small smile, fading scars of past battles stretched. It wasn't every day someone could read his actions. He still couldn't believe he had been convinced to come to their office.

"My office is safe, there isn't anything here that can hurt you, Harry," the soothing voice said again. "You can rest."

An amused chuckle threatened to escape his lips, but after years of schooling his emotions and facial expressions, it barely showed. And yet, they caught just the slightest hint of it.

Raising her eyebrow, Susan Bones looked down at the Boy Who Lived, a man, while still in his twenties, who had gone through so much. "I'm glad my words amuse you, Harry, but it was, after all, your decision to come to my office today."

Surprised, and it scared him that something so simple could catch him off guard, he turned to face her, preparing himself to ask her how she knew he wanted to laugh.

"I've known you for at least 11 years, Harry, ever since first year, and even though I admit we've never been the best of friends, the … last few years really brought us closer together, all of us." Her voice broke in the middle of her sentence, as she found herself unable to say a single word. It was a tragedy what war did to people. "But, coming back to business, I want to know what's been bothering you the last few days." There were words left unsaid of course. "So much so that you can't sleep, eat, or even function".

He sighed, and ran his hand through the messy, jet-black mop of hair on top of his head. A move engineered by his father and made famous by him. He cringed at the thought of the many times where his habit had made girls and women all around visibly swoon and collapse at his feet. Blinking his emerald eyes, he took off his glasses and gave both eyes a thorough rub, as many sleepless nights had made them irritable.

He never knew why Susan had studied psychology. She was a Pureblood, and they didn't really delve into the Muggle research of the brain. And yet, here she was, a war veteran, much like himself, but unlike him, she held a degree in psychology from a local college. Where she had found time to go to classes and fight in the war confounded Harry.

"It hasn't been going on for the last few days, Susan," Harry spoke, softly, as pertained to his nature, or so they thought.

Susan heard the words that weren't said. This had to be a recurring case, months, maybe years. As waves of sympathy washed over her for this barely 22-year-old young man, she took his hand, lightly grasping it for fear it would break. "So, what's wrong, Harry?"

He had never been one to open up himself, not to his late godfather, Remus, not even to Ron or Hermione, and he wasn't going to start now. But he would give an honest effort.

"It's …" he struggled for the words as Susan waited patiently, "… different. It's hard to explain. It's just, I can't sleep, and, it's … hard."

He finished lamely and gave her a sheepish grin. Susan sighed inwardly; it wasn't going to be easy to get him to tell her his problems. She knew that to help him along, she would have to have some magical help. And it was with this thought that she drew her wand from the clipboard she held in front of her, but before she could even cast a mild hypnosis spell, Harry chortled.

"You don't honestly expect that to work, do you?" Harry looked amused, but inside he was seething. She thought that she could place a hypnosis spell on him? The defeater of the Dark Lord? The one who could resist the Imperius curse without batting an eyelid? "I can resist the Imperius curse without even trying, and you think that silly little hypnosis spell will work?"

Susan's frown deepened. She had noticed the change in his tone of speech immediately. It wasn't carefree, or even amused, as it had been when they were discussing things of nonimportance. Replacing it was a neutral tone, but she could sense an underlying danger and anger to it that set the hairs on the back of her neck on end. And how did he know what spell she would cast before she even did so?

"Okay," she relented, "So maybe that won't work, but I have another idea." And with that, she stood up and walked to her desk, pulling out several vials that she kept hidden from her more ordinary guests.

"I don't think potions are the answers either, Susan," Harry said. His eyes no longer held mirth, but were rock solid and his gaze unwavering. And while he couldn't resist Veritaserum -- no one could -- he had developed a mild immunity to most other potions that created a lax mind. He had spent many hours ingesting the potions himself and trying to block their effects, a necessary evil in his training.

Finding herself slightly quivering under his intense gaze, Susan returned to her seat and faced Harry.

"Okay, since you obviously can't be affected by Wizarding methods, I'll have to make you relax the Muggle way. If you want me to help you, you need to trust me, believe in me. I know that it's hard for you to trust anyone, Harry, but you can trust me. Help me help you."

Harry's anger disappeared with her admission of failure. He was glad, but it was cases like this that made him worried. Following Susan's instructions, he closed his eyes and let her voice take over his mind. It was hard. He hadn't relaxed any of his mental shields in the better part of five years, and to do so now -- the prospect of his mind open for the picking -- frightened him.

Susan could see that this wasn't going to work, at least not without a little help. So quietly, she moved her chair behind Harry's head and lightly threaded her fingers through his messy locks.

"Picture yourself, Harry," She whispered, "You're floating in a large body of water. The waves are rocking you gently, and they move, ever so softly. The water is so warm, and it surrounds you. The sun bathes the rest of your body, Harry; its rays are so warm, the water is so warm. Can you feel it, Harry?"

As he listened to Susan's words and pictured what she whispered in his head, for the first time in half a decade, Harry allowed himself to relax and his mind to open up. He couldn't even hear what Susan was saying anymore, all he could feel were the rays of sun on his skin and the warm water washing over his body.

Susan stopped her verbal ministrations, but continued to play with his hair, more out of her own enjoyment than anything. Honestly speaking, who could say that they played with The Boy Who Lived's hair before?

"Tell me, Harry," Her breath tickled the hair that slightly covered his ear, "What's wrong?" If Susan could only see herself now, whispering in Harry Potter's ear, playing with his hair, with him on his back in her office. Oh, the things she could do.

"There's something evil inside of me," he stated. Well, that killed the mood.

"What do you mean, Harry?" She dug deeper. Perhaps this was what was bothering him.

"There's something inside me that keeps raging. It's like a fire that never stops. I can feel it, growing inside me. It's consuming me. I can't sleep, lest it take over. I have no appetite when I can hear the darkness whispering to me. I can hear the shadows mocking me. The people, all around me, they look and judge, they point at me and mutter sweet nothings into my ear and leave, only to come back to chew me up. And every time they do, the darkness, it wins, and I can feel my soul, dying a little bit inside … ." He trailed off, his breathing shallow, in contrast to his companion, who was frozen.

"What do you mean? When did this start?" Susan's mind raced. What was he talking about? What could make Harry so … dark?

"In seventh year, after I turned seventeen. That was when I first learned the Dark Arts."

Susan's breath caught in her throat … the Dark Arts? While she had fought alongside Harry during the war, she had never seen him battle anyone. She was always too busy tending to the wounded or being part of a separate strike team.

"The Arts," he continued, eyes closed as if in a trance. "They were so intoxicating. I can remember thinking, 'Dumbledore was right, they are addicting,' and I knew of my addiction, but I couldn't stop. Nothing could stop me. I didn't sleep, I barely ate. I was always in Hogwarts, in the Restricted Section. The school was closed to students, but open to the Order. I had the Marauder's Map so I had no problem reading all the books, and no one was around to see me, to catch me, to stop me.

"And after I was done with the Restricted Section, I couldn't stop, I had to get more. I went to Knockturn Alley, Mad-Eye, anyone that I knew that knew the Arts, I had to learn more. I had to know more."

At this, his head gave a slight twitch, moving to the side a fraction, and the movement startled Susan out of her reverie. All that time they thought he had died, he was in Hogwarts? And how deep was he into the Dark Arts?

"How much did you learn?"

Harry's breathing paused, as if formulating an answer, then replied, "Loads. I knew so much, learned so much. Only Voldemort knew more of the Arts than I did, I was sure of it. Bu it still didn't matter, it wasn't enough?"

"What wasn't enough?"

"My knowledge, I couldn't hold anything I knew next to Voldemort, he knew too much. He knew everything that I knew. I wouldn't last a second next to him in a real battle."

"Why Harry, why did you start?"

He was still in a trance-like state, and continued to answer her, "Voldemort. Everything always comes back to him. Why my life was so messed up, why I learned the Dark Arts, everything was because of Voldemort. He had to be stopped, after … after Dumbledore." And at this, his voice stopped. "I knew there was no hope. There was no way I could face Voldemort one-on-one with what I knew, so I had to fight fire with fire."

Susan gave a sad smile. It was true, the Wizarding World had been so lost without Dumbledore. Within months, Voldemort's attacks reached into the Ministry itself, and all that opposed him fell. She could still remember living in hiding, looking over her shoulder every few seconds, praying that every breath she took would not be her last. But all that changed, when an invitation was extended to her to come to Hogwarts once more, not as a student, but as a member of the Order of the Phoenix.

Yes, Dumbledore's group of Light Side fighters. All those who opposed Voldemort banded together under Hogwarts' roof and protective walls. The professors forgot lessons of turning pincushions into porcupines, and instead taught offensive and defensive Light Side spells. Within days, everyone knew Protego and other shield charms, as well as the Stunner spell and others. But it wouldn't be enough, as Voldemort's first attack had crippled the forces of the Order. Although they managed to fight the Dark Lord's forces back, they had suffered heavy losses and a lowered morale. But most importantly, their saviour was missing. Harry Potter had not returned to Hogwarts.

It was later learned that he, along with Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, had searched for Voldemort's final Horcruxes and finally, when the snows began to fall in February, they had succeeded. But it was not without loss. Ron had suffered life-threatening injuries on their assault against Voldemort's last Horcrux, his pet snake, Nagini. Hermione and Harry were able to bring him back to Hogwarts' infirmary, but it was too late. Ron Weasley, youngest son of Arthur and Molly Weasley, Harry Potter's best friend, passed away a month later, in early March.

"If it wasn't enough," Susan continued, "then what was enough? How did you gain enough power to stop Voldemort?"

Harry's voice continued, "After Ron's … death, I snapped. I knew that something had to be done, so I went there."

Susan's voice trembled. "Where?"

"The Chamber of Secrets."

Harry clenched the side of Ron's hospital bed tightly, his knuckles turning white from the pressure. All that he had learned while they were traveling, all the Apparating between their camp and the edges of the Forbidden Forest, and running into the library to read on the Dark Arts, only to see his best friend die in front of him.

Harry's shoulders shook as he watched Molly gather her son's body into her arms and unleash a terrible wail. He watched as Arthur sank to his knees, hands gripping his thinning hair as he looked totally lost. He watched as Bill and Charlie stood, shocked out of their minds, transfixed upon the sight of their youngest brother's dead body. He watched as the twins, in all the time that he knew them, were silent for the first time. He watched as Ginny and Hermione wrapped themselves in each other's arms, sobbing their hearts out, Ginny for her brother and Hermione for her boyfriend. And he watched, out of the corner of his eye, as Percy stood outside the hospital wing's doors, looking ashamed of himself for the brother and family he pushed away, and he couldn't take it.

Angrily, he spun on his heel, ignoring the cries of his name and ran out of the hospital wing into the corridors of Hogwarts.

He didn't really know where he was going. The hallways were fairly empty, although he ran into a few members of the Order, but he brushed past them quickly, eliciting cries of annoyance as he pushed them out of the way. Out of breath, Harry stopped and put his hand against the stone wall, steadying himself as he was resting. His scar was tingling, and absentmindedly, he reached up to rub it. He gasped as a rush of power rushed through his body, causing him to look up and check his surroundings.

He was in front of Moaning Myrtle's washroom.

Withdrawing his hand from the stone wall, he noticed that the tingling in his scar faded a little but did not completely disappear. Hesitantly, he reached out once again, and lightly grazed his fingers against the cool stone, but nothing happened. Feeling more confident, he flattened his hand against the wall, and still there was nothing. What was missing? Slowly, Harry reached up towards his scar. His fingers brushed the skin where pale flash turned into crimson red and quickly drew in a quick breath.

It was overwhelming, and Harry crashed to his knees. It wasn't as bad the first time, but now, if only just for a few seconds, he could feel a huge amount of power surge through his body, starting from the scar. A dark, sinister power.

Picking himself up and dusting off, Harry's steps slowly took him toward the entrance where most of his second year was spent brewing potions and slaying giant snakes. Realization came to his eyes as he finished his last thought: the Chamber!

Quickly, he dashed to the sink where the Chamber's entrance was located. However, unlike when he was 12, Harry didn't have to concentrate to speak Parseltongue. All of a sudden, it was strangely natural to him.

"Open," he hissed. This was it! He could feel the energy in the air, licking at his body, and the tingling in his scar increased to a mild buzz as the sink slowly sank back and the doorway to Salazar Slytherin's secret Chamber revealed itself. As he stumbled down the pipe to the Chamber below, the buzzing in Harry's scar grew stronger and stronger. It was coming to a point where it was hard to keep his eyes open and walk in a straight path. Placing his hand against the smooth walls of the pipe to steady himself, Harry distantly heard himself cry out as another surge of power raced through his body as he collapsed and rolled the rest of the way down.

He let himself rest at the bottom. It was unbelievable that he couldn't find the energy within him to pick himself off the floor. But Harry Potter was never much of a quitter, and he angrily shoved himself off the floor. He slowly stumbled his way to what he knew was the main Chamber. The snake carvings on the walls around him seemed to hiss, or was that his scar burning? It was too hot in the Chamber, much hotter than he remembered, too hot. Sweat poured down from his brow, and Harry tasted it on his lips, as well as a hint of copper. Still struggling, he put his hand up to his scar and pulled back. His scar was bleeding. Grinding his teeth together, he held back a few choice words as he soldiered on.

It was as if he was drawn back to the horrors of the main Chamber, and his feet unwittingly led him there. Wearily, he saw the still rotting carcass of the dead basilisk. The stench of the body was surprisingly washed away by a breeze that seemed to come out of nowhere. He could almost see Ginny's body, flaming red hair included, lying somewhere next to the giant snake.

He stopped, and the intensity of the buzzing seemed to split his head in two. Struggling to keep in a pained yell, Harry fell to his knees, clutching at his scar with both hands. And then, he heard it.

It was some distant hissing, and although Harry was sure it was Parseltongue, he couldn't understand a single word of it. Not leaving him any time to ponder this strange occurrence, the eyes of the bearded monkey face statue flashed and Harry felt pain worse than the Cruciatus flowing through him. Unable to keep silent anymore, he let out the pained yell of a wounded and dying animal. His entire body fell to the floor, his lungs on fire, and he desperately tried to claw through his robes and skin to alleviate the pain. But that wasn't the end. Next, the pain passed to his abdomen, where it stayed and seemed to expand his internal organs from within. They pushed against his ribs until he felt they would all snap from the pressure.

As he felt himself start to lose consciousness, Harry rolled onto his back, hands still clutching his ribs. It was so hot, the pressure was so strong, and somewhere, deep, deep down, he felt something unlock, and the pain increased threefold, and he promptly lost consciousness.

"It was there that my magical power increased. But it wasn't just my power. I seemed to grow at least an inch in height and all the muscle tone in my body increased. It was incredible. I had never experienced something like that in my life."

Susan was astounded by Harry's story of his supposed awakening. She remembered that day, not because she was with him, but because he showed up the next day, apparently stronger and more confident than ever. It was true, she remembered, as he had showed his new-found abilities in wandless magic, which, as he told her, was more about power than ability. Finally finding her voice, she asked hesitantly, as if fearing to incur his wrath. "So, what was this power exactly?"

Harry smiled with his eyes closed. "I suppose it was the 'power the Dark Lord knows not'," His voice seemed amused, but there was a darker undertone. "I have no idea why it woke within me at that time. Perhaps it was the bit of Voldemort in my scar that reacted with the Dark Magic in the air. Of course, I wouldn't have been affected when I was 12, but once I reached my magical maturity, or near it I suppose, it would have been a different story."

As Susan quietly absorbed this new information, Harry continued, this time, with a frown on his face. Seeing this, she continued her ministrations with his hair and he seemed to calm down.

"But," she held her breath at his hesitant tone, "it still wasn't enough. Even with my full power awakened, I couldn't match Voldemort. Although I could injure him, I was nowhere near the level that he was, not with the help from his rituals."

She nodded her head, remembering the picture of Harry bursting through the main doors, robes seemingly held together by magic, and his body bloodied and thoroughly damaged. It was only a couple hours after he had led an attack against the Ministry Building where Voldemort was stationed. Of a group of 20, only he and five others returned.

"So, I went back to the Chamber, trying to find more secrets, maybe another way to see if my full power had actually been unleashed, but what I found instead was much, much better."

"What?" Susan's next words were waiting anxiously on the tip of her tongue.

"Salazar Slytherin's library. It was expansive, books and scrolls on curses and jinxes that I had never even heard of before, mostly Dark, and mostly written by him. I camped down in the Chamber for days, reading and practicing everything that I could. My magic behaved differently now, and I hadn't understood that before I took off towards the Ministry. I was adept at wandless magic with most basic spells, but for more complex and darker ones, I drained my magical core pretty fast. But now it seemed that whenever my core was drained or severely depleted, it would replenish itself faster, and it seemed to grow each time it needed to be replenished. I was thrilled. Perhaps if I overworked myself a couple of times, I could get my core to expand twofold, then three, and so on. But that plan was put on halt when I found something, something that changed the war for good."

"In Slytherin's library?" Susan inquired, her curiosity breaking the silence held for a couple of seconds.

"Yes, it was a book on power rituals, all of them Dark but extremely powerful and useful."

She was horrified. He used Dark rituals? Was the young adult lying in front of her as dark and evil as Voldemort himself?

Harry had no idea what was going through Susan's mind, though with his mind so open and relaxed due to her methods, he could barely stop the rush of information that followed.

"I used the rituals, about three of them, all to increase the size of my magical core and to streamline the magic in my body that allowed me to cast with the most efficiency. Each ritual left me drained of magic, but with my new abilities, I not only gained it all back as well as the additional power given to me by the rituals, my magic doubled itself each time I healed. In short, I was powerful, enough so that I could kill Voldemort now. But I wouldn't rush into it, not after my experiences, so I had to get him to lower his guard enough so I could deal him a death strike. In order to do this, I became a Death Eater."

Harry knelt on the ground in front of the Dark Lord, lowering his head so he would not see the disgust so evident on his face.

A bone chilling laughter slowly filled the room, growing in pitch. "So Potter, why have you decided to join me now?"

Completely enforcing his mental shields, the Occlumency taught to him by one Nymphadora Tonks, he raised his head to meet Voldemort's crimson eyes with his own emerald ones.

"My Lord, I'm not sure if you've heard of the saying, 'If you can't beat them, join them'? As you have so thoroughly defeated me the in our last couple of encounters, I feel that it is pointless to continue my resistance against your power." Harry grimaced as he slathered his speech with enough flattery to make even Voldemort appreciative.

A chuckle proved him right, and Voldemort stood up from his throne, waving his arm to signal the remaining Death Eaters in the room to leave. As the last one left, Voldemort descended the small steps leading up to his throne and looked down at Harry. "Tell me Potter, why should I not kill you now where you stand?"

Slowly, Harry drew himself to his full height and looked up into Voldemort's eyes. Although the awakening of his magic had increased his height as well as his power, he still stood shorter than Voldemort by an inch.

"You want to destroy the last remnants of the Order of the Phoenix, don't you? I can be your spy, I can tell you when their operations will take place, I can tell you anything you want to know as I know it all. I am, after all, Harry Potter."

He watched as Voldemort's mouth stretched into a cruel smile. "Very well, Potter, come here."

As the Dark Lord beckoned Harry forward, he wondered if now was the right time to strike, and yet, a small voice in the back of his mind kept stopping him and telling him to allow more time for Voldemort to fully trust him. Harry regretted his decision not to kill him as Voldemort forced him to his knees and grabbed his left arm. As the dark wizard withdrew his wand, Harry's eyes widened in realization, but it was too late.

"Morsmordre!" Voldemort hissed, and Harry's arm became excruciatingly painful as the Dark Mark was branded into his skin. He bit his lip and did not yell, for fear of giving the satisfaction to Voldemort.

As the branding was done and Voldemort turned his back to the now panting Harry, the Dark Lord walked up a few steps before pausing ever so slightly. "You know Potter, I wonder if you'll be as obedient as my other servants? I hear that pain is an excellent lesson in obedience."

And with the Voldemort spun around and cast a curse. "Crucio!"

Reacting with his seeker reflexes, Harry rolled to his right and drew his wand before leveling it at Voldemort's body. 'So this is how it is,' he thought before sending a powerful Reductor curse at the Lord, who in Dumbledore fashion, disappeared and reappeared a few feet away to the right. The biggest piece of the throne behind where Voldemort used to stand was merely a fine powder. Voldemort quirked his eyebrow before casting another Cruciatus.

But Harry was ready this time. He quickly yelled "Tectum!" and a dark shield appeared in front of his body. The Cruciatus splashed against it, causing Harry to buckle from the drain on his core. Dropping the shield quickly, Harry started on the offensive by quickly casting a Reductor and a Cruciatus of his own.

Voldemort spun out of the way and Harry quickly adjusted his aim and yelled, "Levitas!" and a bolt of lightning streamed out of his wand and struck Voldemort. The Dark Lord grunted in pain and his robes were singed before he raised his hand and Harry hesitantly stopped.

"Impressive Potter, most impressive." Voldemort seemed genuinely surprised. "I see that your time has not been foolishly wasted. And casting Dark curses now too? I am very much impressed. You may leave now."

Harry was flabbergasted. So this was a test? And he had obviously passed. Glaring at Voldemort, Harry quickly bowed and left the room, pondering on what he had done to himself.

"So I started to give Voldemort information about our operations. In essence, I was starting fires and tried to handle damage control by myself. But I knew that he still did not trust me fully, so I had to sell our most dangerous operation to him …"

"My Lord," Harry started, "the Order is prepared a strike on the detention camp holding Muggle-borns stationed in Surrey tonight. A team of 50 wizards, including Minerva McGonagall, Remus Lupin and Kingsley Shacklebolt, three of the key members of the Order itself."

As Harry knelt on his knees, he knew that this time he may have gone too far. According to their intelligence, Voldemort had no idea this attack was going to happen. The camp was important to the Order as it held many powerful witches and wizards detained by the Death Eaters, and the strongest of the Order had volunteered to lead that mission.

"Interesting," Voldemort muttered, "I had not known of this operation. You have served me well Potter. Now, prepare yourself, as tonight, you will join us in meeting the Order, and finally show your true colours to the Wizarding World!"

And that night, when the Death Eaters, together with Harry and Voldemort, Apparated to the camp in preparation of the attack, Harry slipped out of the camp, unknown and unseen to all.

When the attack finally began, the Order was surprised to see most of Voldemort's army waiting there, prepared for them. Trolls and giants were lumbered near the front of the lines while dark creatures such as werewolves and vampires waited behind them, followed by the Death Eaters. The full moon slowly crept out from behind the clouds and the Order was horrified to see at least 30 werewolves start to transform into bloodthirsty monsters. However, they were not without their own werewolf as Remus Lupin, who had taken Wolfsbane Potion merely hours before, transformed as well but kept his mind. As the werewolves finished their transformation, Voldemort gave a chilling laugh, and the Dark forces took it as their sign to attack.

The werewolves leapt forward, snarling, and they were followed by the quick vampires, who bared their teeth at the measly group of wizards they were about to feed on. But as they neared their prey, who were trapped under anti-Apparation and portkey wards, a single wizard stepped forward from the crowd, and raised his wand.

"Lumos Solarum!"

Those single two words unleashed a light as bright as the absent sun, and blasted all the vampires back, as well as blinding the werewolves and oncoming forces temporarily. As the vampires fell to dust, the wizard twirled his wand again and let forth another incantation.

"Redundo Argentum!" was yelled and a flood of silver poured from the wizard's wand, and as the small tsunami of liquid silver reached the retreating werewolves, the wizard turned to meet his stunned companions.

Harry smiled at the prospect of battle as he lowered his hood, "Now, together!"

And with that, they charged. While it seemed like a ridiculous notion to charge two giants, six trolls and at least 70 Death Eaters head on, Harry's complete destruction of both the vampire and werewolf forces gave them new hope. And their hearts eased as Harry pointed his wand at the closest cluster of trolls and let forth a small explosion from his wand. The heads of three trolls were gone as brain matter rained upon the Order members. Next, he waved his wandless left hand at the majority of the Death Eater forces and they were swept back by a wind of hurricane strength. As the two giants slowly lumbered forward, Hagrid, a half giant himself, charged forward, roaring, and struck the closest giant in the foot with his axe, and he was aided by at least ten witches and wizards who fired a multitude of spells at the giant to bring it down. At least 30 of the remaining Order members flung themselves at the Death Eaters, who, due to Harry's earlier spell, were still disoriented. The remaining ten stayed back to help bring down the remaining giant. The remaining three trolls stepped in front of Harry menacingly, and yet, he smiled.

"Exuro!" A gigantic ball of flame engulfed two while the remaining troll was beheaded thanks to a nicely placed Sectumsempra curse.

"Potter!"

Harry turned to his right and ducked to avoid an oncoming Cruciatus. He rolled and fired a spell which blinded the opponent. Voldemort side-stepped.

"Avada Kedavra!"

Harry was quick to react and avoid the killing curse as Voldemort grew tired of his ever present dodging.

Various dark spells and curses were exchanged, with Harry either taking a hit or dodging while Voldemort was usually hit with Harry's curses. He was irritated it was so hard to get a clean hit on Potter.

"Enough,Potter! Stop and face me like your father did -- he was a real man."

It seemed the right thing to say as Harry did stop his movements, only to turn to Voldemort with green eyes flashing obsidian. That, combined with the strands of his hair whipping around and the sickly green aura that surrounded his body, gave even Voldemort a small shiver of fright.

"Praemium! Exuro! Levitas!"

An explosion spell, giant fire ball and a bolt of lightning flying toward him made Voldemort step back and quickly move out of the way of the spells, only to move into the way of another explosion spell as his left and wandless arm was blown off. Giving a snarl of pain and anger, and glancing down at his stump, Voldemort prepared to go on the offensive again, only to find Harry charging forward already.

"Crucio!" Voldemort gave another grunt of pain as the Cruciatus made good and he quickly broke the curse. He was now panting, injured and was sure that if the battle were to continue he would surely lose. Where had Potter gotten this power? But it was no matter, he could always retreat and attack another day. Voldemort quickly ran towards his Death Eaters, sure to find some help from Potter there.

"Not so fast Tom! Atra Orbis!" Now slightly afraid, he turned in time to see and feel a sphere of dark energy slam into his abdomen, tearing a hole through the right side of his gut like a whirlwind of blades, and ripping through his intestines and shredding his robes as he was thrown at least ten feet back. Voldemort gave an anguished cry as he collapsed.

Harry walked up to Voldemort, and looked down at the dying man. "This time, Tom, you won't be coming back. Your Horcruxes are gone, and look at you, you're pathetic."

Grimacing, Voldemort looked up at Harry, and started laughing, "Potter, if you kill me, you kill yourself. All Death Eaters with the Dark Mark and dark creatures under my command will be destroyed with me.

Harry grinned, and ripped back his sleeve, revealing, to Voldemort's horror, a bare arm. "You think I couldn't undo what you did? I'm stronger than you, Tom, and your terror has ended. Animus Attero!"

With that dark curse being said, Voldemort, Tom Marvolo Riddle, could feel his soul being sucked out of his body, and he could feel and see no more.

Harry watched in fascination as Voldemort's final piece of soul was ripped from his body and destroyed in front of his eyes.

"And ever since then, I've been having these flashes of anger, impatience. I can't really explain it nor control it, and I think it's getting worse."

Harry relaxed and finished his story. But as he sat there, his mental shields were setting themselves up again and he came out of his trancelike state, only to remember what he had told Susan. He quickly snapped his head to look at her, only to find her looking back at him in disgust and horror while tears rolled down her face.

"You … you sold them out! You lead Ernie and Hannah to their deaths! How could you join Voldemort like that?" Susan screamed at him, the tears now pouring from her eyes. Harry quickly pushed himself off the couch and moved toward her, but she quickly stood up and drew her wand against him.

"Susan! I had to do it! To end the war, to stop the killing and the fear. Don't you see? It was necessary!"

"BULLSHIT!" Susan cried as her voice became hoarse from her distress. "How can you say joining Voldemort was necessary? How can you say that learning the Dark Arts was necessary? How you could say selling out your friends and the people who loved you was necessary?"

Loved. That was a slap in his face. Harry really tried not to think of what other people thought of him, he really did, but what Susan said, to imply that he no longer had people who cared for him, wounded him. Such words to come out of someone he had trusted so much to let his guard down with, only to have it handed back to him on a cold platter. It was a crack in the dam against that darkness inside him, and the crack started to grow larger, and turn into more cracks. Soon the dam was holding on to barely a thread.

"Susan, please!" he pleaded as he sank on his knees, "You've been so great to me, I trusted you with so much! Can't you see that what I did was for the good of every witch and wizard that we know-"

Any further speech was cut off as her hand met his cheek. "How can you say that? Ernie and Hannah were killed in that attack, that night when Voldemort died. And now I find out that it's you that sold them out. You lead them to their deaths and spit on their graves, bastard."

She slapped him across his face again, and leveled her wand against him. "Don't move, I'm fire-calling Minerva, we'll see what they want to do with you."

Susan turned her back on Harry for less than a second, but it was too big a mistake to make around Voldemort's slayer. With a wave of his hand he summoned both hers and his wand into his hands. She quickly turned around, prepared to tackle him to retrieve her wand, but was met with a curse.

"Crucio."

It was unbelievable. She had heard stories of course, of how much the Cruciatus hurt, that it was like a thousand hot knives stabbing you all over your body. She cried out, and it pained her to cry in front of such a monster. But she had to make the pain stop, any way she could.

"P-p-please …"

Harry laughed, one that reminded her of the Dark Lord. It was cold, and devoid of any humour and amusement. Harry knelt down next to her and looked at her. She was shocked to find that his eyes were flashing a dangerous green and black.

"You want me to give you mercy? After you crucify me for saving your miserable life, you BITCH!" He roared as he poured more hatred into the curse. Susan screamed until she thought she had lost her voice. Her spine arched back until it almost snapped. She could feel her mind breaking, it was so close, the pressure was too great. And then, the pain was gone. She was breathing heavily, recovering, when he knelt down next to her again.

"You can scream all you want, little bitch, no one can hear you through my silencing spells."

She gasped in horror, her throat already ragged from her prior screams. Harry gave another cold laugh as the tears of pain, anger, frustration and fear poured down Susan's face. She shuddered as he brushed his hands against her cheek.

"You know Susan, you really are a beautiful woman. It's a shame you'll have to die soon, and no one can truly appreciate you. Incarcerous!"

She tried to shriek with her hoarse throat as the ropes snaked out of her own wand and wrapped around her body. 'Oh no, not this, anything but this …' she thought horribly.

"But maybe that's not true, perhaps there can be someone who can … appreciate your beauty before your imminent death," Harry's voice rumbled as he whispered in her ear, running his hands through her coppery red hair.

"Harry, please … anything but this, please," She pleaded in vain as she cried at what was about to happen. He gave a dark chuckle before silencing her with a wave of his hand. He put both wands into his robes to free his hands.

She struggled as his hands cupped her cheek, his thumb running over her cheek bone. He gave her a dark smile before crushing his lips on hers, bruising them and causing them to swell. His hands wandered all over her body, running from her cheek down to her neck and onto her breasts. He kneaded them softly at first, running his hands gently over her nipple before quickly squeezing them roughly and causing her to turn cry out loudly in pain.

"You liked that didn't you, Susan?" Harry asked, fully knowing she couldn't answer, "Why, you little slut, I didn't know you liked it rough."

He viciously attacked her neck as a wave of his hand caused all her clothes to vanish. Harry stopped kissing her neck as he took an appreciative glance up and down her body.

"My, my, you are definitely, how do the kids say it these days? Hot."

He quickly discarded his robes and undid the buckle on his belt.

Harry gave Susan, whose eyes held a vacant look to them, another Cheshire grin.

"You know, Susan," he said to the nonrespondent witch, "that was one of the best I've had in a while. You were fucking great."

He knelt down once again by her face, and ran his hand over her face, which finally drew a reaction from Susan, with her shaking his hand off her face, her eyes holding a terrified look. He gave her a hard look.

Harry hummed absentmindedly to himself as he stepped out of Susan's office. He turned around and gently closed the door before walking down the brightly lit hallway towards the elevator, still humming the same song.

It would be several hours before someone would find Susan Bones' burnt and bound, naked body lying on the floor of her office.

End Chapter 1

AN: Well, what did everyone think? It was a bit dark I suppose, I don't know if it'll get darker later on in the story but that is most probable. I don't really find Harry OOC here as he always had trouble controlling his emotions, and the dark arts probably made him dip deeper into the dark side. The first chapter of course is just an introduction, a fairly long one, I don't even know if I can match the word count in later chapters! Thanks to Demon God of Chaos for the inspiration, although I am no longer writing a response to his challenge.

How were the fight scenes? Good? Bad? Too short? Too long? (I doubt it). Any and all feedback is appreciated. Flames not welcome, but constructive criticism is!

All spells were translation of English words to Latin.

Levitas lightning

Exuro fire

Praemium explosion

Tectum shield

Redundo Argentum flood silver

Atra Orbis dark circle

Animus Attero soul destroy

I really have a hard time thinking of suitable spell names so if anyone has spells to lend me, I would be happy to use them!

Until next time,

Homicidal Psycho Jungle Cat (Hobbes)