Disclaimer: I make no profit from this, nor do I own it. If you are looking to buy Harry Potter contact J.K. Rowling, not me.

The Moonlight filtered through the glass, casting shadows across the room and it sparkled off the glasses of the room's young occupant. The occupant was named Harry Potter, and the inky blackness of the night suited his mood of late perfectly. His godfather had died only weeks ago, and Harry was taking it hard. Undoubtedly, he would have already snapped if not for the book.

The book was titled, simply, The Dark Arts,and it had already been of great help. For the first time, he actually understood a book. Before, he had pawed through books but had only understood after his friend Hermione had interpreted. But this book he understood.

It had a plain cover, leather and old, but it seemed to reek of power. It was, as the title stated, about the Dark Arts, but not only that—it actually told how to perform the curses and spells, rather than just how to protect oneself against them. And it told, explaining in amazing depth, what the Dark Arts were comprised of, how the Dark Arts were classified, and how they were discovered. And, sensibly enough, most of the Dark Arts could not be considered Dark Arts if anyone had sense enough to use them for practical purposes (pest control, mercy killing, etc.).

Harry had been fascinated by the Dark Arts ever since he had entered the Wizarding world…though at eleven years of age, it was an innocent fascination that any young Wizard might have. Until it grew into something more. The book had come from the school library, where he had picked it up thinking that it was a defense book that would help in his quest to become an Auror. But in the end, he realized that it was a book for practitioners, and his dream of becoming an Auror had gradually dissipated, leaving behind a different dream, a more powerful dream. He, Harry Potter, would become a Dark Lord and his might would overshadow all those who came before him. He would have his vengeance—from the Old Man and from Tom. And in the end, the world would fear him and they would all bow.

In the darkness, the young man called Harry Potter smiled, and the moon flickered off.