Hey all. So I'm still working on all my current stories, and I probably shouldn't be starting a new one, but I'm a little bit obsessed with evil Harry stories atm. Like really evil, best friends with Bellatrix, shagging the Dark Lord stories. So I thought I'd try to write one.
This chapters a little background-y, but it should pick up next chapter. It's set at the end of 5th year and will be HP/LV. Hope you enjoy.
Harry Potter had never been a normal boy. Hell, Harry Potter wasn't even a normal wizard. No, Harry Potter, also known as the boy who lived (like seriously who had come up with that, it sounded ridiculous), had been destined for greatness since he was a baby, when the Dark Lord Voldemort had marked him as his equal, and nearly destroyed himself in the process.
Everybody new this story, as well as the stories of his adventures at school. What they didn't know though, was that every single one of those adventures were orchestrated by no other than the headmaster, Dumbledore. Yep, the beacon of the light, caring old man was nothing more than a front for his endless pursuit of power, and he didn't care who he hurt along the way.
The other thing that no one knew was that Harry was dark, and not just in a dabbled in a bit of dark magic dark, but truly dark. And he hated muggles, and mudbloods.
You see, this was really all Dumbledore's fault. He was the one who had left him with his abusive relatives. He had been treated like dirt, locked away in a cupboard and forced into child labour from a very young age. The Malfoy's treated their house elves better than the Durselys had treated him. When Harry was around eight years old though, it had got a whole lot worse, as his pig of an uncle decided that he would use Harry as his own personal play thing. Harry couldn't wait to get control of his life back; Vernon's death wouldn't be quick, and it wouldn't be pretty. Harry smiled to himself, lying on his small bed, where he was waiting for Hedwig to return. No, he thought, Vernon's death would be artwork, albeit slight gory.
Harry was shocked that his poor little abused kid, that was just desperate for love act had worked as well as it had. The second Hagrid had told him about his past he had decided to play the part, ignorant about magic or his greatness, like he didn't know that he was better than every other pathetic person he had come across. He had got himself sorted into Gryffindor, made friends with the fame seeking Weasley and the know it all mudblood, and put on such a good show that he deserved an Oscar.
If there was one thing that Harry Potter wasn't, it was stupid. Like he was really just going to accept that he needed to fight this war for a load of idiots who couldn't look after themselves because his parents had been killed. Especially seeing as he didn't even know what the light were fighting for.
It had actually been Draco Malfoy who had explained it to him. Harry had written to him during their first year, asking to meet, just the two of them. Draco had been curios enough to go through with it, and once he realised that Harry was a completely different person with his friends around, he had agreed to explain everything. Harry had smiled fondly at the memory.
It was midnight and Harry was waiting out in an old forgotten courtyard. He was smoking, a habit he had picked up from wandering the streets when the Dursley's had kicked him out. Draco had approach cautiously, afraid that it was a trap.
Harry had smiled and gestured to the ground beside him, and Draco had eventually sat down. After Harry had explained everything, he asked Draco to tell him about the war, and what the light were fighting for.
"Basically, the light want to get rid of the Old Ways, which purebloods have worshipped for years. The Old Ways have been slowly phased out, our holidays have been replaced by Christmas and Halloween, to make the mudbloods feel more comfortable, and we now have to practice in secret." Draco had explained. "The Dark Lord wanted to stop are contact with the muggle world, forcing muggles to integrate with us, rather than us accommodating them."
Harry had nodded thoughtfully, "that makes sense, I know I would have been better off in the wizarding world."
Draco nodded at this "exactly, the Dark Lord believed that magical children should be taken from their parents and brought up by wizard families. That way they would know are traditions and would respect them rather than looking down on them" Draco finished, looking pissed off.
"What traditions are they then?" Harry asked, curiously.
"Well many mudbloods complain about us using house elves, but don't understand that they need to serve wizards, it's part of their magic. If they didn't they would die" at Harry's questioning look, Draco explained what house elves were.
"Mudbloods don't understand the Old Ways, and the sacrifices we must make to the God's and Goddesses in order to keep are magic strong." Draco explained
Harry glanced at his watch, and realised that they had been out for over an hour, and needed to be getting back to the castle. Before they left he turned to Draco and said "I really would like to be friends, you know. I know I was an arse on the train, but I can't risk Dumbledore realising that I'm not who he thinks I am, not until I know what he wants from me".
Draco smiled "yeah, I'd like that too. Maybe we could meet up again in a couple of days, back here?"
Harry had nodded happily, "yeah, that would be good. I'd love to learn more about everything. If you don't mind teaching me"
And that was how Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy had become best friends. Draco had taught Harry how to worship in the Old Ways, and about the Dark Lords aims. Harry had to admit that the only thing he was really against was the whole kill Harry Potter bit, he'd hadn't survived the Durselys to be offed by someone else. He also wasn't overly keen on bowing down to anyone, but he had a feeling that he'd rise pretty quickly.
Harry had fought against the dark Lord, yes. But only because he knew that Voldemort didn't have enough power to defeat Dumbledore. He had however, saved the diary from his second year, creating a duplicate to give to Dumbledore. He had had a feeling that it was important.
Which brings to now, lying on his bed waiting from a reply from none other than Bellatrix Lestrange, who he had tried to torture just a few weeks ago.
Harry had been mildly annoyed when Sirius had died. He'd been a nice enough guy, although he was too far under Dumbledore's thumb for Harry's liking, and seemed to think that he should be his father's image. But Harry had done what was expected of him, following Bellatrix to the empty hall, and taking the opportunity to have a quick go at some dark magic. Bellatrix had laughed at him, called him pathetic.
Harry had smiled a slightly unhinged smile at her, "teach me then".
Hope you enjoyed, please review