Harry Potter and the Forbidden Legacy

by DZ2

Tempest Novastorm's Harry is a demon king Response: With his brother named the BWL, Harry's left alone to wander the dark path. But when he finds out a forbidden secret about the true power of his family, it offers light to the darkness and so much more. Dark/Evil OP/MoD Harry/Neville;

1. Of Blood and Destiny

Harry Potter and the Forbidden Legacy: A Harry Potter Fanfiction

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its associated characters: all rights belong to JK Rowling. I do not own any crossover references used in the story: all rights belong to their original creators. I do own any OC spells explained at the end of a chapter.

Plot: Tempest Novastorm's Harry is a demon king Response: With his brother named the BWL, Harry's left alone to wander the dark path. But when he finds out a forbidden secret about the true power of his family, it offers light to the darkness and so much more.

Challenge Information: Rules: Harry rules over demons

Dumbledore bashing, Ron bashing

Harry learns of magic at a young age

Harry is in Slytherin

Intelligent!Harry

Minerva is on Harry's side at the end

Goblins are allied to Harry

Dark Harry

Optional: Harry is the reincarnation of the last demon king (past life) No

If the 1st is accepted, Harry can remember his life or not remember his past life as a demon king No

Wrong BWL/GWL Accepted: BWL

Harry stays with the Dursleys and they serve him No

Harry goes to the 'underworld' (world of demons~ whatever you want to call it) to live Accepted

James and Lily are alive Accepted

Harry joins Voldemort as an equal Perhaps

Dumbledore knows of Harry's heritage as a Demon King Perhaps

Fawkes abandons Dumbledore and joins Harry Perhaps

Good Voldemort Perhaps

When Harry goes to Hogwarts he has demons as guards with him Accepted

Demon attributes (e.g. eyes) Accepted

Shadow elemental Accepted

Friendship with Malfoy (Draco and Lucius) Accepted

Good Snape Accepted

Forbidden: Harem!Harry

Fem!Harry

Light Harry

Preferably not slash

Author's Note: So, I know I have a lot of other ideas currently rummaging around in my head, including a response to another challenge by this dark-minded brilliance, but as soon as I read this challenge, what can I say? I was hooked! So, as with most dark stories, expect a lot of fun, a lot of chaos and a lot of power; also, be prepared for some twists and turns that you might see coming, but, then again, you might not; who knows?

Anyway, enjoy the overall adventure and, as always, if you don't like it, don't read it.

Dedication: I'd like to dedicate this story to Tempest Novastorm for creating such a dark-hunger-inducing challenge and lighting the fire of inspiration in me yet again: my recommended reads are Harry Potter and the Champion of Darkness by DZ2, Janus and Yield to the Darkness by Quatermass, Rise of Ouroboros: New Lord Azkaban and Horror reborn: Second coming of The Butcher by Triple D aka Dark Demon, Harry Potter: Lord of Darkness by AngelSlayer135, Right Side of Hell by NeoMare, Harry Potter and The Prince of Power Book 1 Birth of a Snake by ACI100, The Dark Lord Peverell-Slytherin by Ares Peverell-Slytherin, The Rise of a Dark Lord by LittleMissXanda and Lucifer Rising by JasminSky

Key Pairing: Harry/Neville

Other Pairings: Lily/James; Others TBD

Normal Speech

'Thoughts'

'Mental Speech'

/Parseltongue/

Chapter 1: Of Blood and Destiny

Cheers, music, fireworks and celebrations.

These things and more filled the air as the guests attending the coming-of-age party of Michael James Potter, also known as the Boy-Who-Lived, let loose many chorused cheers and bad singing as they celebrated what was now the ninth birthday of the hero of the magical world. Drinks and food of all kinds were consumed and gifts were exchanged, along with well-wishes and interesting, dull and friendly conversation.

One by one, the guests enjoyed the party, congratulating the birthday boy and his family for doing such a splendid job with raising such a fine and noble man to be the next Potter.

All the while, as the party went on outside and people made merry and indulged in one conversation after another, trying to find some way in with the hero of the hour nobody noticed the figure watching from the inside.

Forbidden Legacy

Nine year old Harry James Potter – yeah, he found it stupid that both him and his twin brother had the same middle name too – watched from behind the gap in the curtains around his bedroom. As he watched his Mother and Father congratulating, praising and, generally, idolising the latest achievements of his brother, the younger twin felt his hands tremble with pain, fear and a mix of hatred and sorrow as he watched them.

When his Father, James Potter, hit Michael on the back and laughed with him at some joke or remark that had been said, Harry felt his heart turn colder than cold as he thought to himself, 'Why would he never treat me that way?'

Being as young as he was, jealousy of his elder brother – by seven minutes – was probably commonplace for Harry, but beneath the envy and the questioning thought, there was more that lit that particular spark in the young boy.

Forbidden Legacy

Ever since he was a baby, Harry had always been something of an invisible presence in the Potter household.

Michael, who was born first at 11:53pm, had always been someone whom his parents doted on, most-notably because of how, when he'd been born, there had been complications with Michael and, curiously, the doctors hadn't even noticed Harry was even sharing a temporary space in his mother's belly until the night in question when the healers had told her she was having twins.

And yet, Michael had been the complicated one and, while Lily Potter nee Evans had struggled to bring her second son into the world – finally succeeding on the stroke of midnight – James Potter had been with his firstborn as the Healers tested him, breathed life into him and, eventually, handed him to his Daddy.

As for Harry, he was pulled out of his Mother's womb and passed to the only other figure who'd been present at the time: his godfather, Sirius Black, who'd always been something of an honorary father figure to Harry, which was lucky.

If Harry hadn't had Sirius there when he needed comfort or a father's sagely wisdom, he might have gone mad.

Ever since that night, Lily and James seemed to blank Harry out of their memories and, even when the family went into hiding in fear of an attack from the Dark Lord Voldemort, it was Michael who'd been given the larger nursery and kept close to Mummy and Daddy. Harry, on the other hand, only got seen to whenever he cried and, even then, it was by one of the Potter House Elves.

Then the attack happened and, in the process, Michael had become something of a celebrity for doing something nobody else had managed, in vanquishing Lord Voldemort, while Harry went from practically-invisible to almost-literally the real deal.

Forbidden Legacy

Weirdly, though he never told anyone about it, Harry always had a flash of memory about that night, especially with how his parents had been out of the house and so, when he'd cried, the elf who'd attended to him put him next to his elder brother, not that Michael had noticed. Then, while Michael had slept, Harry had a vivid memory of a flash of green, which had killed his faithful provider elf, before a wand was aimed at him, not Michael.

The next thing he could remember was a high-pitched scream and a smell of burning flesh before a magical explosion had rocked their home, leaving Michael with a lightning-bolt-shaped scar from a stray bit of debris.

As for Harry, he'd been left unmarked, once again ignored even by wounds.

After that night, Michael had been hailed as a Saviour and hero while Harry was, more or less, left alone to fend for himself: even Sirius didn't seem to come around as often as he used to, though Harry knew – or rather, he found out when he was a little older – was that the only reason Sirius didn't come around was because of his work as an Auror and training to become a Hit-Wizard.

So, while Sirius tried to make as many visits to see his godson as he could, his job kept him at arm's length at best.

This left Harry alone in the manor with only his own smarts, a sense of childish curiosity and an almost ever-present sense of envy, hatred, curiosity, pain and sorrow that, slowly but surely, infected his heart and blackened his soul.

Eventually, he stopped trying to be noticed and just faded into the background.

Hence why he wasn't at the party – a party that should have been celebrating his birthday too – and, as far as anyone else was concerned, he was content with just watching from the inside.

Forbidden Legacy

As Harry watched another bootlicker, some toady from the Ministry if his eyes weren't deceiving him, come up and give his brother more unnecessary hero-worship and respect, the young boy's jawline tightened in such a way that even his Father's old enemy would be envious when he saw said butt-kisser hand Michael a long, thin box, which made Harry's brother uber-excited and James as proud as punch.

'A wand?' thought Harry, his eyes stinging with tears he just plain refused to shed as he snarled to himself, 'Why does he get a wand? Sirius always said we were meant to wait until eleven before we had our own wands!'

Unable to bear the sight of his brother getting more special treatment, Harry turned and made his way away from the window; as he did so, however, the young boy let out a cry of alarm when he accidentally stumbled over a duvet he'd thrown off him earlier that day after waking from another strange dream he couldn't quite recall.

In a bid to steady himself, Harry threw out an arm, but instead of the end of his bed or some other surface, he gasped when he felt his arm cut itself against what felt like a smashed glass, cutting a deep wound open on his arm. As his blood flew from the wound, spattering over his covers and the end of his bed, Harry bit back a scream, knowing no-one would be likely to hear him anyway, before he looked to the glass in question.

To his outrage, the glass he'd cut himself on was from a pair of broken glasses he dimly recognised as belonging to his perfect brother, who'd inherited Daddy's eye problems while Harry managed to look out at the world with pride and delight, unhindered by such devices.

What such an object was doing in his room, he didn't know and he didn't care.

Stumbling to his feet, Harry stormed out of his bedroom, again biting back a scream and a grunt of pain and discomfort even as he noticed his blood dripping from the open wound on his arm.

All that mattered was that he found a wand, even if it was only one of his family's practice wands, so he could cast a healing spell to close the wound before he lost too much blood.

Forbidden Legacy

Yes, he knew about his magic.

He had done ever since he was seven years old and had accidentally used magic to set fire to a front-page photo in the Daily Prophet that had shown his family, but he'd been magically removed from the image, as though he was something that hadn't belonged.

Since then, as with everything else that he'd done, Harry had started learning on his own, using his apparent curse of being socially and physically invisible to his family to sneak into the library, read up on as much as he could, practice his magic with a training wand and learn to control his magic at the same time; of course, he also did everything in his power to make sure he was at least able to remind them, one day, why he wasn't invisible and why he had the name of Potter in the first place.

Little did he know, as he stumbled through the door into the family library, just how his wish and his greatest dream was about to come true.

In ways he never would have expected.

Forbidden Legacy

It started with a chill.

As he made his way over to where he knew the training wands were stored, Harry stopped suddenly as an unusual chill blew from somewhere in the stacks, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. At the same time, as Harry felt the chill brush against him, he was dimly-aware of an eager sense of yearning that stirred deep within the deepest, darkest roots of his heart, his soul and his magical core.

With a look of bewildered curiosity on his face, his wound and his intention to heal it momentarily-forgotten, Harry followed the direction of the chill into the labyrinthine maze of stacks, books and scrolls that made up the ancestral Potter Family Library. Whenever he turned a corner and found the chill had vanished, Harry doubled back until he found it again, before he resumed his newfound urge to follow and discover the source of the cold snap that wafted against his body.

He didn't know why he was so tempted or determined to find the source; all he knew was that he had to find it.

As he walked through another group of shelves, Harry stopped suddenly when he saw something he was pretty sure he hadn't come across before, though he wasn't 100% sure of that as even he hadn't really explored all parts of the family library.

In front of him was a large, black bookcase, which seemed to be fused into the wall itself; the shelves of the bookcase were all filled with row after row of thick, black, leather-bound books that all looked the same.

The same size, shape, height, width and even the same number of pages from one book to the next, each one of them fitting so perfectly-together, it looked like the shelves were actually painted onto the wall.

And yet, as Harry reached out a hand to test this theory, he jumped back in surprise when the first book he touched suddenly clicked audibly, which resulted in a movement from the book as it slid forwards. Seconds later, Harry's eyes widened when the entire bookcase suddenly opened, revealing a cold, blue light that burned from beyond the bookcase, as well as the same eerie chill that had drawn him towards said bookcase in the first place.

'This is weird,' thought Harry and, for the tiniest of moments, he was honestly tempted to run outside and ask his parents about this.

As he did so, however, his expression turned sour as he could already hear their reactions.

"What do you think you're you doing there in the first place?"

"You shouldn't be in there; you're not like Michael, you don't need to read."

"What? You wanted to practice magic; why? The only thing you're good for is being Michael's shadow."

"You just need to stay out of the way; what are you even doing out here?"

"Don't you care about making your brother's big day as special as it can be?"

"Oh, stop wasting time and just go away, whoever you are…"

By the time Harry made the choice, he was a little surprised to find his feet had moved and made the choice before the rest of him as he was now moving down a flight of black-stone steps, guided by blue-flame torches that lit the way down into whatever or wherever he was being led.

'No turning back,' thought Harry, clenching his fists as he told himself, 'No more turning back…they wouldn't listen anyway, so let's go.'

Forbidden Legacy

Had Harry looked back, or had anyone been so concerned with the movements of the other Potter boy, they might have noticed the bookcase Harry moved through closing up as quickly and suddenly as it had opened.

However, as the case slid closed, anyone else who bothered to take notice of such things would have also seen the bookcase ripple and shimmer before it melted away like water, leaving the wall of the library as clean and empty as it had always been.

Almost as if the bookcase was never there in the first place…

Forbidden Legacy

At the exact same time the bookcase closed, had anyone been in the Master Study of the manor, they would have seen an ancient-looking tapestry suddenly unfurl itself, spreading through the air like a flying serpentine dragon as it expanded in size and form. Once the full tapestry was unfurled, it took on the shape of a large tree, similar to the Worlds Tree, Yggdrasil, each branch of the tree occupied by a different banner and a small image of a face.

On the lowest of the low-positioned branches, however, even as the tree blossomed, the lowest of the branches suddenly turned black in colour before it snapped off, disintegrating into nothingness even before it hit the ground.

Once that was done, the tapestry returned to its former position, leaving everyone at the manor nonethewiser as to what had gone on.

And by the time anyone noticed, it would already be way past too late.

Forbidden Legacy

To Harry's bewilderment, the strange spiralling staircase seemed to go on forever, almost as though it was taking him down into the belly of the earth itself, most-likely where some ancient monster would lunge out at him and gobble him up for its dinner.

Masking a laugh at his childish imagination running wild for only a moment, Harry looked ahead just in time to see that his guess was wrong: the stairway did come to an end, but they did so by coming down to a large, round chamber, almost like a rotunda. Instead of a ring of pillars, however, there were only three large, black, obsidian pillars, all three of which seemed to be set in a perfect triangular form.

At the heart of the circle, Harry's eyes narrowed when he saw a single black book mounted on a pedestal that appeared to be made from actual human bones, the sight of which made the little boy tremble in fear and dread as he saw it.

And yet, he couldn't look away.

Stepping down off the stairway, Harry looked around for a moment, taking the time to circle the strange pedestal, as well as the three large pillars that surrounded it. Apart from the pillars and the pedestal, there wasn't anything else: no doors or windows; no statues, gargoyles or even suits of armour. The walls were the same dark colour as the rest of the chamber and the only light came from the blue flames that lit up the chamber from within torch brackets, bathing the strange circular shape in an eerie glow that was both chilling and a little awe-inspiring to behold.

'Why am I here?' wondered Harry, scoffing to himself as he mused, 'Maybe this is just another trick by Dad to get me out of the way; maybe I'm locked away down here now where I can't be an embarrassment for Michael.'

'I don't care about Michael.'

Even as he heard the voice respond, Harry jumped almost a foot off the floor in shock, his heart now racing in his chest while his eyes darted about the chamber, looking every way that was possible, and a few more besides, before he finally found his own voice, "Hello…who's there?"

'Hello Harry,' said the voice, a man's voice as Harry noticed; it was soft, eerily-so, and tinged with an air of nobility and something that, when he heard it, made Harry gasp again as he felt the chill from before now lacing the words spoken by the strange man…or whoever or whatever he was.

And yet, the only thing Harry could ask in response was, "H-h-how do you know my name?"

'Oh, I know more than just your name, my little one,' answered the unseen speaker, his words sounding so loud, so clear and so close that he might as well have been standing next to Harry, but when he looked, the only one that Harry saw was himself, even as the speaker went on. 'I know your heart, your greatest dreams and your hopes and desires and, if you do me one small favour, little one, I will repay you by giving you those dreams.'

"You…you will?" asked Harry, earning a hum of mutual agreement from the speaker as he asked, "How…how do you know that? And…and how do I know I…I can trust you? I'm not like my…like Michael!"

'I know,' agreed the strange speaker, a note of amusement lacing his words as he explained, 'That's how I know you are the one I seek and the one who can do me this small favour and, in return, I will give you everything you wish, young one: power, strength, compassion and, if you wish it, I will even give you family…'

"F-f-f-f-family?" stammered Harry, his heart turning cold once more as he looked around, once again trying to find the source of the voice.

As he did so, however, his eyes suddenly settled on the book in the centre of the strange ritualistic altar…

'Very good,' said the voice, earning a gasp from Harry as he went on, 'Yes, Harry; I will give you family, but, as I sense you have figured out by yourself already, I cannot do this while I am bound within these pages…that's right, I am speaking to you from within the book held inside the altar. A novel idea, puns fully intended, to seal away powers as great as my own, but their mistake was allowing me to continue existing down here, in the bowels of the earth, where one day, my Chosen One, my true successor…my child, if you wish, would find me again.'

Just like when he'd walked into the bookcase that led him down here in the first place, Harry found his feet moving before the rest of him had a chance to catch up and decide what he was going to do.

At the same time, he swallowed hard as he asked, "Who…who are you, sir?"

'I am one whom will give you all you wish and dream and more,' replied the voice, his words tinged by a sense of duty and sincerity, both of which were noticeable even through the sibilant hiss of his words as he continued. 'All I ask is one small favour and, in return, I will give you the power that you so rightfully deserve: you will become far…far more than the mewling quim whom others claim is everything you are not. And, as part of our bargain, if it is what you wish, I will become more than just friend and mentor to you…if you so wish it, Harry, to you, I will be…FATHER!'

A feeling of awe and no small amount of desire gripped Harry's heart as he heard this; at the same time, the voice went on, 'I will call you my son for, in every sense of the word, you will be that. My son, my heir, my Chosen One and the future of a great and powerful force, so old and so strong that even the greatest sorcerers could not vanquish it. So, instead, they bound its power within me, within the pages of this Grimoire, and sealed my soul within the book as a final jest while they took my body and incinerated it, making sure nothing remained…but what they did not anticipate, not until it was too late, was how in my death, my bloodline still endured.'

"How?"

'In you,' answered the strange voice, his words like serpents whispering in Harry's ear, or even his mind, as he explained, 'The so-called Hero's House that is the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter is the result of my bloodline enduring; and, for centuries, I slept, waiting, hoping and seeking only a true, worthy soul to inherit my gifts and the power I once commanded. However, what I did not anticipate was the aggressive nature taken by my descendants to become heroes, guardians and symbols of good who went against everything my power and those of my sons wielded at the height of our power.'

"Who are you?" asked Harry.

'Do me my favour and I will tell you.'

Again, the part of Harry that insisted he wasn't a fool fought back, "Tell me and I promise…I will do whatever you ask."

In response, the voice chuckled before he drawled, 'Very good, boy: you have a true spirit worthy of my finest and my favourite sons…I thought I would be waiting eons before my true heir came home, but here you are, the Lost Child, the Forsaken One…yes, you are worthy.'

"Then," said Harry, swallowing down his nerves as he stood next to the pedestal before he asked, "If I'm worthy, tell me…who are you?"

For a moment, there was silence, but as the moment passed, the voice returned;

'When I was little more than a mere novice to my skills, as you are right now, my child, my name was Ignotus Peverell…'

Harry's eyes widened with shock and alarm when he heard the name, having heard talk of the name and the surname of the family that were ancestors of his own.

However, as he wondered what he was meant to say to that, the voice went on, 'But when I grew into my true power, I realised that Ignotus Peverell was a fiction created the moment I was ripped from my Mother's womb without a care for anything that may happen to me. A smokescreen to conceal my true identity, which I found years later when the true power of my legacy, a power I now offer to awaken in you, young one, was given to me, making me who and what I have become.'

Again, silence followed his words before Harry visibly shivered when the chill he'd felt before returned in force, flooding the room in cold, dark sensations that both excited and unnerved Harry even as he heard the voice speak again;

'My name is KHAN!'

Swallowing hard as the shivers and the cold hit him again, Harry licked his lips nervously before he looked at the black book before he asked, "And what…what do you want me to do, Khan…sir?"

'A simple thing,' answered the voice of the altar, earning a curious look from Harry as he went on, 'Your wound; it still sheds blood, does it not?'

It was then Harry remembered the wound he'd sustained from the glass in his room; as he quickly glanced towards the wound, he saw his blood had trickled down his arm and stained his hand, fingers, nails and fingertips, while more blood dripped freely onto the ground from where the fingertips ended.

As the blood splashed down, Harry's eyes widened when he also noticed the floor of the altar.

Namely the fact that there were three black lines connecting the three pillars around him, as well as a circle that had been drawn around the pedestal at the heart of the altar; from a certain vantage point, if Harry had been able to see such a thing, he would have also seen the shape of the book and its altar forming an almost-perfect vertical line running through the circle and the triangle.

Even as he took in the shape, recognising it from a few things he'd seen in his family's manor from time to time, Harry looked back to the book before he asked, "I…I'm still bleeding…what do you want me to do?"

'Simply offer your blood to the Grimoire,' explained Khan, earning a surprised look from Harry while the strange speaker went on, 'Don't worry: I know you are worthy, so your blood will be enough. If you were not worthy, your sacrifice would kill you, but I know you are, Harry James…'

Even as Khan's words filled his mind, Harry made his move, mostly because he'd promised he would do anything the voice said, but also because he wanted to be able to understand why his ancestor, his family's oldest and strongest of wizards, was sealed away in the first place. And then there was the symbol, not to mention the fact that Khan used to be known as Ignotus Peverell.

Both were things tied to one of the greatest powers in the history of magic.

A power that Lily and James had often claimed Michael would acquire one day.

The power of the Master of Death!

Before Khan could finish his coercion of the boy, Harry slammed his hand down onto the front cover of the Grimoire, his eyes burning with raw fury and determination as he asked, "You want my blood? Well I want a family and you said you'd be that for me; so keep your promise and, as far as I'm concerned, you can have every drop inside of me, sir."

'Now Harry,' drawled Khan, even as the magic of the Grimoire reacted to Harry's blood, causing the pillars to glow while the pedestal beneath the book trembled and cracked under the strain of the magic.

'You know that's not what you call me from now on, is it, young one?'

With wide eyes and an eager, if not ravenously-hungry smile, Harry bowed his head, submitting to whatever the ritual was doing to him even as he spoke the words he'd always wanted to say, even if it meant saying them to his…his ex-family.

"Sorry…I mean, you can have as much of my blood as you need…Father…"

'That's my boy,' chuckled Khan.

The next thing Harry knew, his world was consumed by darkness, combined with an audible boom that shook the chamber to its foundations.

Forbidden Legacy

Outside the manor, Lily, James and even Michael all snapped their heads up in alarm and bewilderment when a distant rumble echoed from somewhere off in the distance.

"Sounds like a storm's coming," said James, earning a soft chuckle from Lily.

"Nothing's going to spoil our son's big day, James; go and get the tent…now, Michael, let's go and blow out your birthday candles."

Little did they realise that, by the time the penny dropped as to what else was wrong with the day, it would already be way too late to stop it.

Their ignorance would be their undoing.

At the hands of the last person they would have suspected possible of making such a move.

If only they'd remembered he existed in the first place, all that followed could have been prevented…

So, the adventure begins and, wow, talk about a dark origin: Harry's cast off his old identity for a new one and it looks like he has a whole new family to boot, but what sort of power will Khan – aka Ignotus Peverell – unleash in him?

Also, what will happen when the time comes for the ignorant idiots to realise their mistakes?

Keep Reading to Find Out

Next Chapter: Two years later, the Knut literally drops when the Lost Child makes his return to the lives of those who left him to walk the path of darkness alone: and, even worse, it looks like darkness is now his ally…and so much more;

Please Read and Review

AN: Portrayals

Ignotus Peverell/Khan: Benedict Cumberbatch (cheesy and probably kind of obvious, but fun too, don't you agree?)

Lily Potter: Lena Headey

James Potter: Nikolaj Coster-Waldau

Michael Potter: Jack Gleeson