Harry Potter and the Champion of Darkness: 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 dark lord Response: For some time, Harry's hidden a secret from everyone that's going to prove a certain someone right about him being a great wizard, but for all the wrong reasons.
Challenge Information: Harry is a dark lord challenge
Rules: Harry becomes a dark lord/Harry defeats Voldemort and takes over as Dark Lord
(If harry takes over, there needs to be a show of power, and death eaters need to be submissive, and harry needs to be feared)
A manipulative Dumbledore
Grangers and Weasleys are part of the betrayal
Harry has a Dark Creature for a familiar
Optional: Harry is a Lord to quite a few houses Accepted
Merciless-Harry Accepted
Author's Note: So, quite a short, but sweet challenge idea here and, admittedly, when I first saw it posted in my forum, all I could think was WTF, but then I made the biggest mistake a fanfiction writer could possibly make;
I read the challenge details.
And now, inspiration has struck me like a poisoned arrow to the heart and my cruel mistress calls to me and I must answer, so…enjoy.
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 the challenge: my recommended reads are Harry Potter: Lord of Darkness by AngelSlayer135, The Rise of a Dark Lord by LittleMissXanda, Rise of the Dark Angel by mykkila09, Suns of Death and Darkness by Chakahlah, Dark Prince and The Allure of Darkness by LoveMyRomance, Harry Potter and The Prince of Power Book 1 Birth of a Snake by ACI100, The Snake in the Lion's Den by JasminSky, The Dark Lord's Son by anonwriter64, The Renegade by Greed720, Innocent Darkness by Madriddler and The Dark Lord's Equal by RiddleMeHarry
Key Pairing: Eventual Harry/Neville
Other Pairings: Lucius/Narcissa; Bellatrix/Rodolphus; Others TBD
Normal Speech
'Thoughts'
/Parseltongue/
Chapter 1: A Different Encounter
As soon as he felt the first stab of pain on his lightning bolt scar, Harry knew he was either the biggest idiot in history or the most-naïve.
Slowly edging his way into the last chamber along the forbidden corridor, the emerald-eyed Gryffindor felt a mixture of rage, realisation and no small amount of disbelieving self-hatred well up inside of him as he saw a lone figure standing before a very familiar mirror not six feet in front of him.
But it wasn't Snape…it wasn't even Voldemort.
It was Quirrell.
"Of course," whispered Harry, closing his eyes for only a moment as he stepped into the final chamber, but when he opened them again, he was a little surprised to notice that Quirrell didn't seem any more surprised to see him than he was to realise the Professor was the one responsible.
"Hello Harry," said Quirrell, his voice devoid of its usual stammer while his eyes looked to Harry from his own reflection in the Mirror of Erised, each word as cool and calm as you like, "At the risk of sounding like a bad cliché, I've been expecting you."
"Really?" asked Harry, looking around for only a moment before, returning his attention to Quirrell, he scoffed once as he told him, "Well, I have to admit it, professor; I wasn't expecting to find you…I mean, I should have expected it, given the evidence, but…"
"Might I ask…" inquired Quirrell, cocking an eyebrow as he looked to Harry's reflection before he asked him, "Who it was you thought you might find down here tonight?"
"Professor Snape," answered Harry, though when he did so, the edges of his lips twitched in amusement, or perhaps disbelief, when the Defence Professor let out an amused laugh, wiping a stray tear from his eye in the process as he looked back to the image of the young first-year reflected in the mirror's surface.
"Yes," agreed Quirrell, chuckling to himself as he drawled, "He does seem like the type, doesn't he? And, next to him, who would ever suspect…p-p-poor…st-st-st-stuttering Professor Quirrell?"
To the amusement of the dark-minded teacher, Harry actually applauded Quirrell's own mockery of the same stammer he'd shown many times before over the past year, including when Harry had first met the man, before, bringing his hands together, Harry frowned as he asked, "So then, does it mean that you were the one who tried to kill me that day at the Quidditch Match?"
"Not kill you," argued Quirrell, turning to face Harry with a strong, but sincere look in his eyes as he insisted, "No matter what my intentions, I could never…would never kill you, Harry; even with Snape muttering his little counter-curse, my intentions were strictly to test your resolve…to see what you'd do, you might say. And I am pleased to say that you passed my little test of resilience and your stubborn refusal to admit defeat with flying colours: O+, my boy…brava."
"You're mocking me, aren't you?" asked Harry, earning a small smile from his professor while said man shook his head.
"Not at all," answered Quirrell, lifting his hands as he told the young boy in front of him, "I am genuinely proud of your accomplishments this year, both inside and outside the classroom. Your skill on the Quidditch field is unmatched, even by the so-called greats who came before you: why, your own Father, James Potter, could never have accomplished the amazing feats of spirit and strength of will and heart that you have accomplished. If anything, my young protégé, it is you who should be proud."
Again, the edges of Harry's lips twitched in amusement, though not before his brow furrowed as he asked, "But then, if you didn't want to kill me, and you're not as surprised or alarmed by my being here as I thought you might be, what do you want, Professor? And what do you mean, calling me your protégé? Are you speaking as a professor or do you mean something else?"
"In a way, both," replied Quirrell, his eyes glinting with something that looked like amusement, as well as pride as he explained, "For you see, Harry; I am a teacher of many, both old and young, and, at the same time, when I call you my protégé, I mean it quite personally and, if you would allow me to do so, literally."
"Meaning?"
Folding his arms in a confident manner, Quirrell let out a sigh as he clicked his tongue, almost as though he was considering his response, before, as though he'd made his mind up on what he wanted to say, he looked back to Harry as he went on. "Like I told you, what happened during your first Quidditch Match was a test, Harry, and I meant it. As I also meant it when I told you how proud I was to see you succeed where weaker, lesser men and boys would have plummeted to their doom or run home screaming. But not you…"
While Harry smirked in response, Quirrell lifted a single finger as he added, "However, another test of your mettle came before that match: one that even I did not foresee, despite the fact that, like me, my young lion cub, you are not all you appear to be either."
Rather than voice his opinion, Harry cocked an eyebrow, earning a soft chuckle from Quirrell as he quickly continued, "Come now, Harry: we are alone here. You have no reason to lie to me and I have neither the will nor the desire to lie to you: you showed me your true nature when you realised, all on your own that I was hiding mine, and so I must ask you, Harry: for what reason should we continue playing behind our masks?"
"You say that as though you're more than what I've already come to realise you are," said Harry, his eyes never leaving Quirrell's as he asked, "But who says I'm lying or pretending to be someone I'm not?"
"Well," drawled Quirrell, shrugging ruefully before he smiled coldly, his eyes looking right into Harry's with a gleam of amusement and sly curiosity as he asked, "That all depends on exactly who it is you're pretending to be, my young friend?"
Before Harry had a chance to stop him, Quirrell snapped his fingers, causing Harry's body to skate across the floor until he stopped a few inches away from the falsely-stammering man; now that he was as close as he was at that moment, Harry felt a brief chill pass over him when he saw Quirrell's eyes appeared to have gained an unholy, yet enchanting blood-red glow about them.
As he wondered what could have caused the man's eyes to become the dark, empowering shade they were now, Harry heard Quirrell go on.
"Are you pretending to be Harry James Potter…or are you pretending to be the Boy-Who-Lived?"
Looking into the eyes of his professor, though it wasn't as though he could look anywhere else right now, Harry gulped down his nerves and concerns before, licking his lips, he asked, "Who…who are you? How…how can you know such things?"
"That's easy, young one," answered Quirrell, his dark, confident tone turning cold, sibilant and edged by a slight hiss that made the hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand on end, though not as much as when Quirrell reached up and, with a single finger, he traced the lightning bolt scar on Harry's forehead as he continued.
"I know such things about you because, in a way, I created you…on a dark and stormy night, ten years ago, when I gave you this scar."
Suddenly, before he could stop himself, Harry jumped back from Quirrell in shock, fear, alarm and no small amount of disbelief; and yet, for all the boy's alarm, the dark-edged professor did very little, if nothing at all, to stop him as he saw Harry touch the spot that Quirrell had just brushed his finger across, his emerald-green eyes widening with new levels of disbelief as he breathed out one word;
"Voldemort…"
"Yes Harry," replied Quirrell, the redness in his eyes becoming more-pronounced; at the same time, Harry's eyes widened as he saw the man's face shift, just slightly, his skin rippling like water. As this happened, Harry's eyes widened just slightly when he saw Quirrell's turban melt away like ice turning to water, slowly transforming into a head of short-cut, slick dark hair that fell to the man's shoulders while his red eyes completed the dark look, as did his pale skin and slightly snakelike features.
With his change complete, and any trace of Quirrell replaced by the dark figure that now stood before Harry, the new face of the man smiled coldly as he remarked, "After all these years, I must say it is nice to finally see you again, face-to-face."
"You took the words right out of my mouth," said Harry, though before Voldemort could say anything else, Harry's wand was up;
"Avada Kedavra!"
Yikes, talk about a VERY different encounter, but questions arise from this: how does Harry know that curse? How did Voldemort manage to pull a Grindelwald for so long and what does the Dark Lord mean by Harry pretending to be someone he isn't?
Also, will Harry's surprise attack reap rewards or could this just be the calm before the storm?
Keep Reading to Find Out
Next Chapter: Hmm…how to best describe the next chapter without giving too much away? Let me think…nope; can't do it; just keep reading to find out what I have planned;
Please Read and Review