Summary:
AU: Sirius is dead, the ministry has acknowledged Voldemort's return, and the rift between Harry and everything around him deepens. Things are spinning out of control and many surprises are around the corner…..
Note:
This story is post-OoTP. It will cover the summer after Sirius' death and Harry's 6th school year. I may also extend it to include his 7th year, but I haven't decided. Not sure of the pairings yet. Harry will become involved with multiple girls/women, but will only ultimately fall for one. This story WILL contain sexual content, so if you don't like reading sex scenes, don't fuckin' read the story. It will also contain violence and coarse language, so meh.
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Chapter 1: The Root of All Evil
"The root of all evil has been running my whole life…" – Dream Theater
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Thud.
Privet Drive was as normal as ever. No un-suitable neighbours, no unwanted criminals, and most importantly, no fucking wizards!
Thud.
Well, except one.
Thud.
Two days had passed since the Hogwarts Express had pulled up at the Kings Cross Train Station. And here he sat.
Thud.
Harry Potter. The Boy-Who-Lived. Among other hyphenated bullshit names. He sat on his bed, in the smallest bedroom of Number 4, Privet Drive. His body was upright against the wall, and his head moved backwards and forwards gently, a small thud the result of a collision with the wall.
Thud.
Harry blinked slowly as he realised the dull noises were coming from his head. He looked around in a haze, making sure there was no chance of anything else making the noises, then turned his gaze back to the nothingness he was staring at.
It had been less than a week ago when Sirius Black, Harry's godfather, had gone beyond the veil. Less than a week since Harry had slept. And less than a week ago since Harry had felt any kind of emotion.
Two days ago, after the train ride on the Hogwarts Express, Harry had arrived at King's Cross to see his Uncle threatened by Mad-Eye Moody. Harry's initial joy at such a form of entertainment had long since disappeared into simple apathy. The car ride home from the train station had been good for Harry. He had simply sat there; not seeing, not thinking and most especially not feeling. The Dursley's, in a surprising fit of realisation, had noticed something was different, and had left Harry alone. Thus, the entire car ride had been silent, and arriving home at Privet Drive had been even quieter, if such a thing were possible.
And now, two days later, Harry was sitting in the exact same place, doing the exact same thing, which essentially amounted to nothing.
Harry would've summoned the anger and self-hatred he should've felt at Sirius' death, if it hadn't been so much of a bother, but even that was beyond him. Images played out in front of his mind constantly; he saw Sirius falling through the veil, he saw Cedric's death and heard Voldemort's rasp 'Kill the spare!'. He remembered Bellatrix and her taunts, and he definitely remembered Dumbledore's duel with Voldemort. But, it was just too much effort to find the emotions associated with each.
That was what bothered him; his complete apathy. It wasn't that he didn't want to grieve Sirius; it was that he couldn't. It was as though something was blocking it out.
Thud.
Dimly, he noticed that his thumping head was back at it, and, blinking once again, decided to finally do something different.
"I need a walk," he murmured in a bored voice.
----
He had walked, and now he sat. However, it wasn't on the bed this time; it was on a swing set in the public park, about a half-mile from his relative's house. His relaxed posture resulted in him leaning to the left, and Harry could feel his ribs pressing against one the chains attached to the swing.
Might have to do something about that, he thought as he lifted his too-large faded grey shirt and looked down. Yeah, his ribs were definitely visible. It was then Harry realised he hadn't eaten since Sirius had died. The images flashed once again, and Harry saw Bellatrix's triumphant face. For a second, an untameable range crossed his features before his gaunt face smoothed out and his eyes blanked once again.
Seems like Bella is the only thing that gets me going…merlin, that's a sad thought!
Harry's scar twinged. He ignored it, and boredom came to him once again. Harry had just pulled out his wand to polish on his dirty clothes when he heard a muffled crack behind him. Unconsciously, his body tensed, then completely relaxed again and he continued to sit there without a care in the world. Not even the voice behind him caused a visible reaction.
"Harry Potter," came the high-pitched, slippery voice.
Footsteps echoed behind him, and Harry slowly turned his head for a look at who his visitor was. He blinked, and for a split second, surprise showed on his features before it disappeared.
"Tom Riddle," he replied.
"Come now, Harry. It is Lord Voldemort." Harry watched as the red-eyed man walked up and stopped within two meters of him. His face was snake-like, his skin a sickly pale white, and he was as bald as a baby's arse.
"Cool," Harry said, his tone once again bored, and he deliberately turned his head back towards the front and lent once again against the chains of the swing, ignoring the seething wizard just behind him.
"Don't ignore me, Potter!! Crucio!"
A spurt of bright red flew straight towards Harry, sitting serenely on the swing. Harry merely sat there as the curse came close, as the curse hit….!!
Voldemort stared in shock as Harry didn't react at all to the cruciatus curse and the flare of red flew off at an angle before striking the wet grass of the park, causing a muffled sizzling sound. Harry blinked once again (he does that a lot, doesn't he!), and then gave a small chuckle.
"Well fuck me," he murmurmed. "I'll bet that's never happened before." He looked around and saw Voldemort's shocked face, as well as the still figures of three Death Eaters behind him. Harry gave them a grin, then focused on Voldemort.
"Have a seat, eh, Uncle Tommy?? You're too tense. Need to relax." Harry was nodding along with his assessment of the situation and then again faced forward, once again silent.
The gaping fish behind him stopped gaping, and Voldemort slowly moved forward and took a seat on the swing immediately to Harry's right. "Such a gracious invitation, Harry," Voldemort commented, trying to maintain some dignity after having one of his favourite curses fail completely. His tone had become smooth, as though trying to seduce Harry with words rather than intimidate him with pain and power.
Harry was silent. As always, it seemed.
"You know, young Harry, you and I are a lot alike. Both orphans, both unloved. Both powerful. You and I are one and the same. Wouldn't you say?"
Harry stayed quiet, contemplating what had just been said. "We are alike," he agreed. "But we're also different. I am loved, you are not. I have friends, you do not."
Voldemort made an amused sound. "Not going to point out how I'm a Slytherin and how you are a fool-hardy Gryffindor?"
"I'm more Slytherin than you could possibly imagine, Tom." At that moment, Harry felt as though he spoke the truth and felt pleased when he heard Voldemort hiss at the name.
"That's not my name anymore," he snapped.
Harry just shrugged. "Just as I am Harry Potter, you will always be Tom Riddle to me."
After that, there was silence. Then Riddle spoke again.
"You know I'm here to kill you, don't you?" Harry thought Tom's tone was a little hesitant and confused at Harry's lack of response.
"Figured as much." His voice was deadpan. Then he turned to Voldemort, quite excited. "Hey, how about one last hurrah before death, huh? Conjure us up a bottle of Firewhiskey, what do you say?"
Harry's only answer was another incredulous expression.
"Pff, well, you're no fun," Harry pouted. His excitement had completely disappeared, and he was once again bored. It was at this time that Voldemort exploded.
"WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU, POTTER!?"Tom Riddle's temper had ignited, and he shot up in front of Harry and started pacing. "ARE YOU INSANE?! To sit there so calmly in front of the Dark Lord?!"
Harry just gave a bark of laughter. "Funny you should mention that. Kind of ironic, really."
"And how is that?" came the sarcastic reply.
Harry gave a long, drawn-out sigh. "Ah, well, it's just…. Well, you spend almost five years trying to drive me around the bend, and none of your plans work. And then comes Bella, only a few months out of Azkaban, and in one fell swoop, she's got me completely broken. How is she, by the way?"
Harry had started speaking, a teasing grin on his face, and as soon as he mentioned Bella his features had transformed into something almost insane. Oh, how he wanted Bellatrix Lestrange. A mad grin of revenge split his face, and he turned, finding himself staring intently into Voldemort's red eyes.
The mad grin left his face, however, when he felt subtle fingers clawing at his brain, and with a sigh, Harry broke eye contact and turned away. "Looking for something particularly, Tom?"
A shriek of rage came from next to him, and Harry's smile came back, only amused this time.
"Don't call me by that name, Potter!"
Harry merely continued as though the outburst had never happened. "Looking for that prophecy, huh? Oh, yes," he continued once he saw the blind desire on Voldemort's face, "yes, Dumblenuts told me about the prophecy. Old man wouldn't tell me exactly how it was worded, but he did tell me it essentially comes down to you and me, huh? But then, you already knew that, didn't you?"
Harry once again felt claws on his mind, and he felt the need to brag, "You won't find it, Tom. It's not like you can read someone's feelings and thoughts if they don't think and feel." Harry was quite proud that his voice managed to come out quite condescendingly, like talking to a useless child. He was also quite happy to see that Voldemort believed that he didn't know the prophecy. His scar had begun to bleed, and a searing head-ache was pulsing its way around his brain. But still, he ignored it.
Harry noticed Voldemort was trying to restrain himself from lashing out yet again. His face was quivering with rage at being denied the knowledge he wanted more than anything and being spoken to in such a way. He eventually whirled and raised his wand. "Crucio!"
Harry gave a chilling laugh as he heard one of the Death Eaters behind him begin to howl and scream in pain. "Well, that works too." This is fun, Harry thought.
Voldemort brought his temper under wraps, and Harry got the feeling that play time was over. They were approaching the crux of the matter.
"Enough of this, Harry. It is time to conclude this meeting. You have a choice to make. You can join me, and we will be partners and rule this world. Or, you can die. Make your choice."
"Well, gotta say, the way I am right now, death doesn't really bother me that much, so have at it. As for joining you, well, that plan was shot to hell the moment you executed my family, so I can safely say I'll never join you."
----
There was such conviction in his voice that Voldemort knew that death was the only answer. He pointed his wand at Harry, the killing curse on his lips…when he saw something spark in Harry's eyes….
----
Harry was thinking. You know, internally speculating or whatever that word was. He realised that there was nothing on this earth that could convince him to turn Dark and join Voldemort. Nothing at all. There wasn't even anything on this earth that could even convince him to start living again. The only thing he wanted was…..
The spark came into his eyes as he realised that there was something that Tom had that he wanted. And only Tom could give it to him.
The insane grin was back on his face, as he looked Voldemort square in the eye, ignoring the wand pointed at his chest and stated, "I will join you, Tom Riddle, if you give me Bellatrix."
Voldemort looked at him, as though measuring his worth, before replying. "And why should I give you Bellatrix? She is my favourite, after all."
"She may be your favourite, but she's not me. She's not your equal, and we both know that I am. So, Tom Riddle, you have a choice to make: your most loyal supporter, or your greatest ally?? Make your choice." Harry threw Voldemort's words back at him.
----
Harry waited patiently for Voldemort to reach his decision, and he found his breath hitching with anticipation as Voldemort finally spoke up.
"I will give you Bellatrix, Harry Potter, but only after you have taken my mark."
Harry gave a fierce scowl that set the Death Eaters on edge. "That's not good enough," he growled.
"That is the deal! Take it or leave it!" Voldemort hissed, his anger all too apparent.
Harry's scowl deepened. He wanted Bellatrix. There was nothing he wanted more, except perhaps to have Sirius back, but that was impossible. But was he willing to sell his soul for that bitch? Was he willing to become that which he hated most? But then again, he didn't really feel as though he had a soul at the moment, so… would it be worth it?
Harry's brain tossed backwards and forth between acceptance and rejection, before one side finally won out. "I'll leave it. That price is too high, even if it got me Bellatrix." He looked at the three Death Eaters before looking back at Voldemort. "We're done here, Tom Riddle." Harry's statement had a sense of finality to it, and he got up, turned and began to walk back to Privet Drive, effectively dismissing all of them.
"What's the matter, Potter?!" Voldemort spat at Harry's back. "Too much of a coward to take your revenge against her? Or me?"
Harry just kept walking. He stopped two steps later as Voldemort kept up the verbal assault.
"Always knew I made the wrong choice of the prophecy child. Too weak by far. You cannot hope to stand against the might of Lord Voldemort! Couldn't even defeat my Bella, even after she killed that mutt. A waste of Black blood, he was."
Harry felt something within him straining to break free at Voldemort's words and he felt something shift within him as his magical power began to surge. All of the anger and hatred that should have been present since Sirius' death was unleashed in a great tempest of rage, and Harry snapped.
"Tried to recruit him initially, but those forsaken Gryffindor ideals got in the way. Made him weak. And now he's gone and got himself killed, the stupid blood-traitorous filth-"
"CRUCIO!"
The three Death Eaters watched in horror, awe and amazement as their Lord was put under the pain curse and began to shriek.
----
Harry didn't care about using an unforgivable; he didn't care that his wand was monitored, or that he would now be expelled and forced to go to Azkaban. He only wanted to deal out as much pain and agony to the person who insulted Sirius. Tears dripped down his face as he advanced on the twitching figure of Voldemort.
"YOU DON'T TALK ABOUT HIM LIKE THAT!!!"
Harry's teeth were clenching as the rage poured out of him, physically manifesting into crackling energy around his body. Eventually though, it dissipated, and the true weight of Harry's emotions finally hit him. Sirius was gone! He lifted the curse, and then simply turned and walked away, his shoulder's hunched, his eyes leaking salty tears. A broken man.
He didn't notice the rattling breaths drawn in by Lord Voldemort, still twitching on the ground. Nor did he hear the order Voldemort gave to the Death Eaters. He did however, hear himself give a muffled shout of pain as a cutting curse sliced into his arm.
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Albus Dumbledore was not having a good day. He was currently standing in the expanded kitchen of Number 12, Grimmauld Place, London. The rest of the Order of the Phoenix were situated in various places around the room, having a heated discussion on many differing topics.
Dumbledore gave a sigh as he wished that for once something would go smoothly. But, it was not to be. Numerous Order members had given their reports, and while none were negative, neither were they positive.
He gave a loud call for quiet, then gestured to Severus to give what would be the final report for the evening. "Severus," he prompted.
Snape gave a sneer to the general populace in the room, before taking a step forward. His silky voice was in stark contrast to his greasy hair as he commanded attention from the entire room.
"In my previous report, I mentioned that Potter had previously caused the Dark Lord damage from his attempted possession. I can now confirm that this claim is true."
The room broke into excited whispers at the prospect of having a few weeks of relative quiet, but it was quickly broken up by Snape's next statement.
"Did you not hear me, you dunderheads? I said he previously caused damage. The Dark Lord has since recovered as of two days ago, and has spent all his time in his room, receiving visits only from Wortail."
A harsh snarl from across the room drew everyone's attention. Remus Lupin was on feet, his eyes a molten gold as the wolf tried to gain release. "Wormtail!" he hissed. "What would that bastard have to report?!"
"I don't know werewolf," came the condescending reply. "As I was not privy to the meetings." Snape's voice became harsher towards the end of his sentence, giving the impression that he was not to be tested today.
Dumbledore cut across before the argument could go any further. "So, Voldemort is lying low for the moment Severus? He does not plan to take Azkaban anytime soon?"
"Not that I am aware of, Headmaster."
Albus gave a tired sigh before continuing. "Thank you, Severus. Does anyone else anything else to report? No? Then that is all for ton-" He broke off as a shrill beeping emerged from his pocket.
The whole room watched with interest as he pulled a small silver device from his pocket. Everyone became concerned as they saw a flash of confusion, followed by fear on his now pale face.
Albus raised his head and just looked at the Order members for a second, as though at a loss for words. After a few seconds he regained his facilities and began snapping orders.
"Kingsley, find Madame Bones. Now! Moody, go straight to Harry's house and see what you can find. We'll wait for you here. Go, now!!" Moody immediately ran out the door and promptly disapparated. (I don't remember if they can apparate/disapparate directly outta HQ - let's assume they can)
The rest of the Order stood confused, save Snape, who merely sneered. Molly Weasley voiced everyone's thoughts. "What is it, Albus? What's happened to Harry? Is he in danger? Where is he?!"
"Harry has used magic, Molly. I am unaware of the circumstances. Kingsley, you need to contact Madame Bones so we can give her a statement before Cornelius gets a hold of this."
Kingsley gave a nod of assent and then followed Moody out the door.
It was another tense minute or so where all the members speculated on what had caused Harry to use magic when Moody came stumping his way back through the door.
"He's not in the house, Albus. And Dung was asleep again. I couldn't find the boy, but I was sensing some magic a short way away."
Albus looked critically at Moody as his worry got the best of him. "Well why didn't you check it out, Alastor?!"
Moody swallowed and then continued bravely, "It was strong magic, Albus. Incredibly strong. I-I think it was Him!"
Molly Weasley wailed into her husband's chest as Dumbledore ordered them to get ready to move out to Privet Drive.
None of them would ever forget what they found there.
----
Harry felt the curse slash into him, and he felt the blood drip down his left upper limb. His quidditch reflexes immediately kicked in as he dived to the right, narrowly avoiding two more curses that sailed through the air where he used to be.
He gritted his teeth at the pain, but knew that he had to keep going. A small cut wouldn't keep him down. His dive moved him further away from the Death Eaters, and as he landed, he rolled with it, springing up, suddenly facing the black cloaked figures.
His wand, securely held within his right hand began spitting curses at an alarmingly fast rate. He knew that shouting his curses was as good as handing the bastards a list of every spell he was going to use, so he whispered under his breath.
"Stupefy." His spell shot to his opponent on the left, and as he expected a shield sprang into existence and the spell came back at him. Harry, however, was already spinning away, then dropping down to one knee as he unexpectedly switched targets, throwing a heavily powered diffindo hex at the right-most figure. The man was caught off guard, assuming that Harry would continue an assault on his original target. The curse sliced into the man's shoulder and a large gash became visible. While he screamed, Harry knew the man would be significantly less of a threat compared to the other two.
He dropped from his knee, rolling over the grass, firing another stunning spell as he was in motion. Curses slammed into the ground behind him as his roll carried him behind the cover of a large tree trunk and Harry climbed to his feet, his wand at the ready. The smell of burning ozone told him how close some of those curses had come to hitting.
Adrenaline pumped his body as he sprang out, the disarming spell escaping his lips. His spell hit the left most figure and the man was blown off his feet, his wand flying back about ten meters as remaining Death Eater launched another curse.
Harry didn't recognise the spell that was coming at him, but it was neither the cruciatus curse nor the killing curse. He also realised that he couldn't dodge it in time, and threw up a shield.
"Protego!"
The sickly purple curse flew back at its creator, and Harry immediately launched an offensive. An orange wisp of light sprang from his wand and launched itself into the path of where the man had dodged to. He gave a cry as the ground beneath his feet became icy and he slipped over, hitting the pavement hard. Harry wasted no time.
"Expelliarmus!! Incarcerous!! Stupefy!!" Harry took a split second to notice that the man wasn't going anywhere before he turned his attention to the remaining two Death Munchers.
The man Harry had disarmed had just re-acquired his wand from the grass, and the man Harry had hit with the cutting curse was whimpering on the ground, clutching his arm. Obviously Harry had used a bit more power than he recalled.
Harry let a grim smile play across his face. Two down, one to go!
Harry had just raised his wand to stun the last Bucket Kicker when a savage shriek of "Crucio!" broke his concentration and a spell smashed straight into the side of his chest. Harry knew that knives should be under the power of the curse for a while, but surprisingly he only felt himself launched through the air as he met the ground in the middle of the street.
His breath rushed out of him and spots danced in front of his eyes. He was aware of a dulled ache on the back of his head and was pretty sure he'd smashed his head pretty hard against the road.
He willed the pain away as he realised that he had completely forgotten about Voldemort and the bastard must have recovered and circled around to his side. Using all his remaining strength, Harry raised himself up and managed to climb unsteadily to his feet. His blurry vision didn't show a promising sight. Voldemort was striding steadily towards Harry, the most inhuman rage suffused upon his face, as a small trickle of blood dripped from his lip.
"It has been a long time since I have felt the effects of that curse. You are strong, Harry Potter. But you're not strong enough."
The sickly green light of the killing curse sprang from Voldemort's wand at the same time as Harry's legs began to move. For the second time tonight, Harry dived out of the way. His roll hurt a lot more this time, being on the jagged edges of the road, and when he sprang to his feet his elbows were scraped and bloody. He faced Voldemort, and curses spat from both their wands.
"Crucio!"
"Avada Kedavra!"
As soon as he shot his spell, Harry whirled away to the side, his wand shooting spell after spell. However, his stunners, and his pain curses and his disarming spells were all dodged, blocked, or knocked aside.
As they moved and traded spells, Harry's already sluggish body failed him, and one of Voldemort's spells got through his defences. Harry screamed as knives assaulted his entire body. He could barely make out Voldemort's cruel laughter and his taunt through the pain.
"You seem to have developed a fondness for the cruciatus curse, boy. I thought I'd give you a taste." Another cold, high pitched cackle followed. Voldemort lifted the curse and sneered at Harry.
"Accio wand!" Harry gave a shout of protest as his wand slipped hand and sped into Voldemort's. He watched as Voldemort's face lit up. "Ah," Voldemort continued, "this feels almost like my wand. It's a pity you'll never get to compare both of them." And with that comment, he dropped Harry's wand on the ground and moved two strides closer to Harry, intending to end it all.
"You have fought well, Harry. In time, you would become a challenge greater than even Dumbledore. But I'm afraid your time has come. Any last words?"
Harry struggled to breath as he listened to the red eyed bastard standing above him. He noticed the single standing Death Muncher walk over on the edge of the road, watching excitedly but he seemed smart enough not to interfere with his Lord's pleasure.
Voldemort just smirked at his non-response and raised his wand. "Goodbye then, Harry Potter."
"Avada Kedavra!"
----
Harry didn't care anymore. The fight had gone out of him. He had fought and he had lost. It didn't matter anyway; Sirius is already gone, so what is there left? Harry had no answers for his question. He looked up once more at Voldemort's cruel red eyes and his maliciously twisted smile. As he did, it all came to him. He saw Ron and Hermione's faces, he saw Remus, Dumbledore, Hagrid, Tonks. And lastly, he saw Sirius. Sirius' face with that stupid, goofy grin.
They were worth fighting for. He would fight for them; to protect them, and to make sure they didn't have to face the horrors of the war.
Neither Harry nor Voldemort heard the many pops on the side of the road that signified the too-late arrival of the Order.
Voldemort was too focused on ending his nemesis' life, and Harry was focused on survival.
He heard Voldemort shout the curse that would end it all, but he felt no fear. He only felt a love and determination to protect his friends. And to do that he needed to kill this sadistic motherfucker.
His eyes moved to his wand, lying abandoned on the pavement a meter behind Voldemort. He saw the sickly green light headed for him, and was only filled with grim determination. He wouldn't die here; he had a job to do. He had to get behind Voldemort. He had to get his wand. And he had to do it now.
He felt something rising in his chest, trying to escape. It felt warm and comfortable, and he let it out. The aches in his body disappeared, and Harry focused solely on his task. He willed himself to appear behind Voldemort, and so he did.
The smallest sounding pop signified his success as he found himself on one knee behind the Dark Lord, his right hand scrabbling madly for his wand. He dimly heard the screams of terror from the Order as he rose to his feet while Voldemort spun around to meet him, wand poised to destruction.
Harry's surprised face echoed Voldemort's as they each found the other's wand pointed directly at their chest. For one hundredth of a second, they stared into each other's eyes, and then it all came to a head as they let their last spells fly and two mouths shouted in synchronisation:
"Avada Kedavra!!!!"
Green light erupted from both wands, encompassing the other caster's chest, expanding further and further outwards. A great dome of green suddenly discharged, and each duelist found themselves flung violently backwards to opposite ends of the street, where they lay as if in death.
----
A/N: Okay guys, a few things to clarify.
Harry, right now, is in a very low place. Sirius just died, he's weighed down by the prophecy, and he's had limited freedom for the past year. Add all this up, and you get depression. After Sirius' death, I decided to make Harry quite numb, to absolutely everything around him, which is why he acts the way he acts around Tom Riddle. If you don't like it, then get over it, because, truthfully, I'm writing this fiction for me, not for you guys.
This is also my first fanfic, so I'm writing it for me. I'll definitely read reviews from you guys, but it won't have any affect on my storyline, unless I specifically ask for it. I might use an idea that someone suggests, or I might not.
I'm debating incorporating some elements from another story 'Redemption of the Black Sisters' into my story. Full credit goes to jon3776. I really like the idea of Harry/Bella/Cissa interaction, and he came up with a creative way to do it. This may or may not happen.
If my story gets too out of hand or unbelievable for you, then stop reading. I don't claim to satisfy everyone who reads this, so meh.
Also, not sure how this fight scene came out. I hope it was okay. Important to note that the last bit all happened in one second or so. I just drew it out when I wrote it, cos that's the way I always imagined it.