Paradise Lost by Nargle Hunter

Disclaimer: All characters used from the Harry Potter series belong to J.K. Rowling. No money is being made off this story.

Inheritance

Privet Drive, the next day…

Harry slowly opened his eyes, his room oddly turned on its side. He groaned and pushed himself onto his knees. His whole body ached from the pain from the previous night's experience. The pain was mainly focused in his head, but falling onto the floor and convulsing hadn't helped much. Slowly, he stood up, stretching out sore muscles along the way. Voldemort hadn't been kidding when he said the transfer was going to be painful. If he had known it was going to hurt that much, he would have chosen a different option. But he done the deed already, so there was no point in whining about it.

He grunted as he stretched out a kink in his neck. He hoped he would never sleep on the floor again, at least not in that comfortable of a position. Seeing his glasses laying on the floor, Harry picked them up and slipped them on, pushing up at the bridge to make them hold. His vision much better now, he checked the time on the digital clock that sat on his nightstand. It was a little over an hour after noon; late in the day to be waking up by his standards. He was surprised that Uncle Vernon or Aunt Petunia hadn't barged into the room demanding that he make breakfast or complete some back breaking chore. Maybe the fear he had noticed in his guardians still lingered.

His stomach let out a low rumble, alerting Harry to the fact that he hadn't eaten since the day before. He went to open his bedroom door, only to find it locked. Closer inspection showed that the doorknob had been reversed, allowing it to be locked from the outside. He frowned, there was no way his uncle would have come in here and left Harry on the floor, unconscious. Even Vernon wasn't that crazy, right? But then, what would his uncle have to gain by seeking medical attention for his nephew. He had a nasty feeling that if he were to somehow die, his relatives would have no problems with it. After all, he was just an ungrateful, lazy brat.

He rattled the knob, trying to see if he could shake the door opened. When that didn't work, he called out, to see if he could garner the attention of the other inhabitants of number 4. That too didn't work. The Dursley's must be out the house, probable smug in the fact that Harry couldn't leave his room. He groaned, sliding against the door and onto the floor. The start of his summer was not going well at all; first he was passed out for the night and better part of the day, now this. When his uncle got back home, he would have a lot of explaining to do. Harry closed his eyes and exhaled, trying to calm himself down. There was no point in getting angry when the source of his problem wasn't there.

Almost instinctively, he let himself into a trance, expanding his magic to feel the surroundings around him. It was coming naturally to him, most likely one of the talents he had inherited from Voldemort. He allowed himself to go on, almost floating around the house. He went outside and felt the neighbor tending to her pristine garden, one that was sure to rival Aunt Petunia. It was an odd feeling, this sensing, this exploration of the things around him. It was almost like he was everywhere at once, yet still sitting on the hard floor of his bedroom. It was an exhilarating experience. He wasn't really seeing everything, but feeling. It was more of an aura like sensation he was getting from those around him. Different emotions pulsated from them. Some were stronger than others; others seeming happy, literally radiating joy. He had a feeling he would get a stronger response from magical people. It was a theory he would test when he was a mixed crowd.

He pulled back, tired of his exercise. He was excited though, as that meant that the transfer had worked. He wondered what other things would show up, what other things he would be able to master. Harry stood up once more and walked over to Hedwig's cage. She hooted softly as he opened it up and gently stroked her snowy head.

"Hey girl," he said, holding out his arm for her to perch on. "Did you want to go hunting? I know how you hate being in your cage for too long." As he talked to his familiar, he walked over to his window and opened it up, letting her fly out the window. He stayed at the window, watching her leave until he saw her large form fade off into the distance. There were times like these when he wished he could grow a pair of wings and fly away into the vast, open sky. There were still a few years left until he could be able to break away from the abusive hold of the Dursleys. He would get his revenge on them when it was due. For now though, he would wait and bide his time.

His eyes followed a familiar silver sedan drive down the street and pull into the driveway of Number 4. He watched as the lumbering forms of his uncle and cousin climbed from the car, followed by his horse faced aunt. He wrinkled his nose in disgust at them. How anybody could live they way his relatives did and still survive was beyond him. He placed his ear against the door so he could hear any sounds coming from downstairs. He could faintly hear Vernon mention something about fetching something from upstairs. Good. Harry would be able to have a nice little chat with his 'beloved' uncle. He waited until he heard Vernon walking outside his door before calling out.

"Dursley!" He called out, feeling rather spiteful.

The footsteps slowed to a halt, unsure weather or not to heed his charge's call. Having made up his mind, the footsteps started heading away from the door again. Once again, Harry called out, this time adding a few kicks on the door for good measure. He wasn't about to let his uncle get away with locking him up for forever. He allowed himself a smug smile as Vernon thundered towards his bedroom and tried to open the door, only to remember that it was locked. A few seconds and a loud click later, Vernon threw the door open, his face already a lovely shade of red. "What do you want boy? You'd better have a damn good reason for bothering me!"

Harry calmly folded his arms and leaned against the desk. "Get rid of the lock." He jerked his head towards the door. "I want it gone."

"Listen here freak," Vernon blustered. "I don't know where you got the half cocked idea that you can give me orders and expect me to obey them! That lock is there because I don't want your freakiness rubbing off on Dudley. We just cleaned up that mess with the tail. It's bad enough that we allow you to go to that damned school. You'd better count your blessings boy." He took a half step closer to him, brandishing a piggish finger.

Harry just watched, tuning most of his uncle's rant out. "Listen up fat man," he spat out, disgusted. "I'm giving you your first and last chance to do what I say. Put the lock back to the way it was before, or I'll get myself a little target practice in. There's a nice little curse that I haven't quite got the hang of yet." He coolly propositioned. He was feeling an entirely new and dangerous side of him beginning to show and he rather liked it. "I don't have time to deal with the likes of you."

All the red left out of Vernon's face, leaving him pale. His mouth opened and closed like a fish while he searched for words to say. "Y-You can't do that boy! Petunia told me you aren't allowed to do… do that when you're at home. If you do, you'll be expelled!" he spoke as if it were his last line of defense, which in truth it was.

"How do you know the rules haven't changed?" he bluffed. He knew very well that they weren't allowed to practice magic outside of school, but he was counting on the Dursley's dislike of anything magic to aid him with his argument. "That was what, about thirty years ago? Times have changed since then. Just keep everything simple and change the bloody lock back Vernon. There's no telling what I might do cooped up in here all day. You wouldn't want your precious home blown up, would you?" He finished with the most innocent tone of voice he could muster.

Vernon's face turned all different hues of red before he settled on a nice shade of magenta. "Fine." He spat out, having finally swallowed his pride at loosing his eleven year old nephew. "You'll pay for this, you mark my words!"

Harry remained leaning against the desk until his uncle disappeared from sight. He was glad to hear that the door hadn't been locked, as that meant that his uncle had decided to keep his end of the bargain. He exhaled deeply, and sat down in his chair. Tension he hadn't realized he was holding in released from his body. He had been so sure that he would have received a beating for being so insolent. Having been so used to being subjected to the emotional and physical abuse of his guardians, he had been taught to fear them. Be now, after his confrontation, he realized that they were afraid of him. He had learned a lesson that would allow him to gain absolute control over his relatives. They were afraid of him and what he would be able to do with magic. He would use that fear and exploit in every way possible.

As he continued to go over his altercation with his uncle, he realized he had changed also. More notably, his personality. He noticed that he seemed to have become a different person altogether. He speculated that it was part of Voldemort's personality that was leaking through. It was an interesting feeling to have. He was still Harry Potter, just a different, meaner, colder version that apparently showed up when it needed to. If his friends only knew that kind of things he was getting up to.

--

The next couple of weeks passed rather pleasantly for Harry. The lock had been fixed on his door and none of the Dursleys had wanted anything to do with him. They didn't even bother to give him chores. Of course, a few slip ups about the use of magic might have had some help with this. While he was recovering from putting on the necklace, a few memories had slowly revealed themselves to him. There was a particular set that he had found to be very interesting to him. A memory about a hidden chamber that built underneath the school during the time of the Founders; the Chamber of Secrets as it was aptly named. Like a man dying from starvation, he was hungry for more information about the chamber.

He was curious to see if there was any hidden knowledge that lay in wait for him. He had gathered from memories of Voldemort's childhood that he too was a parseltounge. He knew that by having that rare and Dark gift, that he would be able to access the chamber and whatever lie within. It only made sense to Harry that there were other things besides a giant man snake down there. He had his father's invisibility cloak, so it probably wouldn't be too hard for him to sneak down to the girl's bathroom. The next letter he had received from the Dark Lord was one explaining the memories he had inherited. Eager for more information about the Chamber of Secrets, he had asked more about it.

He had received a few letters from Ron and Hermione. He had responded vaguely to each of them, supplying answers that would satisfy them. He was already beginning to feel distant from them, like he was their friend just for looks. From the memories he had, he was getting the feeling that he wasn't supposed to be hanging out with the likes of them. Hermione, as smart was she was, was a muggleborn, the very thing he was supposed to be fighting against. And then there was Ron and his families, the Weasley's were considered to be Blood Traitors by all the purebloods. But he wasn't willing to give them up, not yet. They were his first real friends and the closest things to family he'd ever have. He wasn't getting rid of them until the last minute.

He was in his bedroom now working on some of his summer Transfiguration homework. His work was a breeze, the memories he had gotten didn't even leave out homework. The work assigned in the 40's was more or less the same as what he was working on now. The essay he was working on was the last of the work assigned to him for the summer. He was so engrossed in his work that he didn't notice an owl flying through his open window until it had landed on his desk. Startled, he looked up and recognized it as the owl that had delivered his first letter from Voldemort. Glad for the contact, he untied the letter. This time the bird stayed, apparently waiting for a reply from Harry. He quickly opened the letter, excited for the reply.

-Harry,

Your quest for knowledge about the Chamber of Secrets is very interesting. I would not have guessed that you would have taken such a liking to it. Unfortunately, what I have learned about the chamber has already been transferred to you through my memories. There are several books on the subject, but they are difficult to find. I would suggest that if you have the chance, to begin a search at Knockturn Alley. Not many people visit because of its reputation. If you do decide to visit, be careful. It would not do for you to get hurt.

Because of your interest in the chamber, I have a task for you to complete. It is a dangerous one that is not to be taken lightly. If you do not wish to complete to, please inform me as your life would be in stake.

Harry continued reading, his heart thudding in his chest. He widened his eyes as he read the next few lines. The Dark Lord couldn't possibly be serious! He quickly finished the letter and wrote out a hasty reply. He would do it, if only to prove his loyalty and how serious he was about joining Voldemort. Once the owl left, he sat back in hic chair and ran a hand through his hair, thinking over what he had just agreed to do. He couldn't let himself get caught, especially with Dumbledore watching his every move. It had been done once before, could he pull it off a second time? Yes, he could do it. He could take on the role of Slytherin's heir.

Whee! Another chapter finished. Sorry for the wait, I was away for the weekend and didn't get much of a chance to write. Thanks to all who reviewed, they are much loved. I didn't think anybody would like it. I'm going to try to update at least once a week, maybe a bit longer depending on what's happening in my life. Thanks again for reading.

N.H.