Disclaimer: Clearly, I'm only doing this for fun. I have no interest in making money from this, Harry Potter belongs to Jo Rowling.

Summary: Dark!Harry AU. After a dangerous house fire, Harry Potter was thought to be dead and his sister, Iris Potter, lived on. But did Harry truly die that night on Privet Drive? NBWL

Prologue

"Eyes of The Devil"

The flames were enraged.

Arabella Figg had been terribly desperate when she fire-called him moments ago, Albus recalled. Not once in nearly half a decade had the woman sounded so scared, so terrified of what was happening to her. Now though, the wily veteran Wizard could see just why she was so urgent, so terrified. Her neighbor's residence from across the street, the house labeled as 4 Privet Drive, was currently a blazed and there was no one around to help out.

Until Albus arrived of course.

He rose the famed Elder Wand and uttered, "Aguamenti!" And what felt like a lake washed down upon the blue fires. The old man watched with fascination as the blue fires went out, only to be shocked as it rose back from seemingly nothing. He tried again but the results did not differ. Every time he put out the blue fires, it only returned seconds later.

"Such powerful flames." He thought wildly, "What is their fuel? And the wards? Why aren't the wards protecting the house?"

He heard Arabella gasp behind him. A portion of the house had exploded from within, seemingly unleashing more chaos within the flames. Albus then came to the conclusion that he couldn't do this the Ravenclaw way. Fortunately for him, he wasn't just any Gryffindor, he was the Gryffindor of his time.

Calmly strutting towards the house, ignoring the squibs exclamations of danger, Albus drew upon the most powerful shield charm in his memory and made a silver-like shield around his being. Luckily, those were more than enough to repel away the dangerous flames that seemed to never cease. The once beautiful house was now melting away from the inside, he could tell, and his search began.

"Iris and Harry..."

The Twins-Who-Lived was perhaps the most told story in recent memory amongst the magical realm. The defeaters of Lord Voldemort and the bringers of peace within dark times. The magical world held them in the highest regard. Logical thinkers would probably scoff at the out right ridiculous notion of praising children but Albus could understand the sentiments of those who did. The people had wished, begged and prayed for the Dark Lord to be slain. And for it to happen in a single Halloween night brought tears to the eyes of thousands, maybe even more so.

And now the house where said legends lived was currently on fire. He hoped to Merlin that he wasn't too late.

Then suddenly, Albus could hear faint crying from inside a cupboard. Racing to the hall, he tried opening the door only for it to be locked. Pointing his wand, Albus uttered, "Alohomora." The cupboard door unlocked itself and he watched with anger rising in his heart, the starved looking form of a young girl. She had hazel eyes and red hair, tears leaking quickly from her sockets.

"W-w-w-w..." The old man placed a soothing hand on her shoulders. "W-who are you? Please get me out..."

"I will. I promise. My name is Albus Dumbledore and you are Iris Potter, my child." He tried to sound reassuring but the current situation was quite ill-fitting for the attempt. "I need to find your brother. Where is he?"

Albus to be frank, didn't give a damn about their relatives at the moment.

"U-uncle and Auntie took 'im to the basemen' fer a lashin'." She whimpered quietly. "He's always coverin' fer me, everythin' is my fault!" The young girl began crying even harder. Albus sighed and stunned her. He didn't have time to comfort anyone yet.

Racing to down below the house with the girl over his left shoulder, Albus had found the first victim of the fire. It was a boy who seemed to have been sneaking a peak on what ever was going down here. And as suspected, his death did not seem pleasant. He was after all, burning in the second hottest flames known to muggle and wizard.

Albus looked to see another door in the basement, perhaps connected to another room, and opened it.

The scene before him would forever be stuck within his soul.

A young boy, physically smaller than his supposed age, stood looking down at two other corpses. His hair was long enough to cover most of his face. He was wearing shorts and a large shirt that was a tad too big for him. His body did not have a trace of urgency within them but more of calm relaxation. In that moment, the boy lifted his head and Albus saw green eyes that resembled a student he had lost long ago, and a friend. But these eyes didn't hold any compassion, any love or any desire for peace like his old student had. No.

These eyes looked for nothing but revenge.

And the name of the boy who had these eyes was Harry Potter.

"...Harry?" Albus acknowledged weakly. The boy didn't move a muscle, his hungry green eyes never leaving the old man's left shoulder. He understood. "Iris was hurt. I'm getting her help."

"...No help will ever come." The boy whispered back. "Who are you?"

Albus tried to crush his own guilt of the situation but it was a difficult task. "Hurry Harry! We must go! This house will not last any longer!"

The boy didn't answer, only looking at his shoulder. "Give Iris to me. We must leave here. Leave this Hell."

"I cannot allow that." Albus muttered quietly but unfortunately, Harry heard him and most likely misunderstood.

"Then you are no help. I cannot allow Iris to be here. She has hurt enough, sir."

"I'm sorry Harry..." The wizard replied. "But I simply cannot. This is for the Greater Good." And with that, he reached to grab him and leave only for the blue fires to come between them in an instant, as if defending their master. In that mere moment, the basement then began collapsing all around them. Albus watched as the blue flames surrounded Harry, who didn't even seem fazed by the situation, and began to consume him.

He would never forget the look in the boy's eyes as he watched on.

"Harry!" Albus yelled out. But it was too late as the house finally gave in. Quickly apparating away from the falling wreckage of the house, the old man appeared inside Figg's warm kept home, a complete contrast to where he had just been. Arabella heard via cracking noise of apparition and rushed back in to help him up.

"Iris!" She exclaimed with intense relief as her eyes searched the hurt young girl. "Thank goodness! Where's Harry?"

Albus, who was kneeling on the ground, didn't answer. The woman widened her eyes in shock, grief and realization. "No..."

"I couldn't save him."

Those words held more weight than Arabella Figg could ever understand.

END. Short Prologue.

Hope you have a nice day.