A/N: Well, chapter one's up! hope you enjoy a Dark Harry and the surprises we have install.

Disclaimer: We don't own the Harry Potter universe. If we did, it'd be centered more around the 'Dark Side'. Unfortunately, it isn't.

Chapter 1 – Without Hope

Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, stormed through the abandoned hallways; the suits of armor frosting over with ice and falling to the ground with loud crashes. Like blood flowing through veins, the ice spread over the floor wherever the boy's feet landed. His fists were clenched, the veins popping out of the skin and a dark fury could be seen with just a single glance at his face.

His emerald eyes swirled with strong emotion, chilling passers by with a single glare.

How could he keep those things from me? Harry raged in his head. Because of me, Sirius is dead! It wouldn't have happened if only he had told me!

The pissed off teen continued on his way to the Gryffindor common room, glaring at anything and anyone that came across him. When he reached the fat lady's portrait, she took one fearful look at him, and swung open.

Immediately, he was assaulted with cries of "Harry, you're back!" "What happened at the ministry?" "So it's true, You-Know-Who's back?"

Harry merely glared at everyone, and the questions died down to an awkward silence. The crowd part in half as Harry took a step forward and slowly walked towards the fifth year boys' dorms.

"Harry?"

The boy stopped and turned to face the girl who had spoken.

Hermione Granger's face was flushed with nervous excitement, and from behind her, Ronald Weasley glared.

Harry was miffed, what the hell do they want?

Hermione hesitated, torn between looking excited and sympathetic, and said softly. "I'm so sorry about Padfoot, Harry."

Harry's anger reached a boiling point. How dare she bring him up? "Look, you pathetic little mudblood," a look of shock crossed Hermione's face at the insult Harry just called her. "I don't need your pathetic sympathy, I just-"

"Harry James Potter?"

The Boy-Who-Lived halted at the interruption and turned his icy glare to the person who had spoken. All emotion was whipped of his face.

Four Aurors stood at the head of the crowd with each of their wands trained towards him. A blond woman, with a stern voice, spoke again, "Are you Harry James Potter?"

Harry frowned in confusion and nodded.

The four Aurors circled him and the blond woman said, "You are under arrest for breaking into a classified section of the Ministry of Magic, false accusations against Minister Fudge, and use of an Unforgivable, the Cruciatus Curse." She paused for breath and then continued, "All of this has resulted in your immediate expulsion of Hogwarts School of witchcraft and wizardry." The Auror summoned Harry's wand before he could move, and she placed it within her robes. "You will be sent to Azkaban without trial on the orders of Cornelius Fudge, he and Headmaster Dumbledore believe you are too dangerous to be allowed a trial."

Dumbledore's in on this? What the hell's going on?

Harry was so shocked he barley registered the fact that the Auror's had bound his hands behind his back. He turned to Ron and flinched at the glare that he received.

"Why?" Harry whispered. Why would his friends betray him like this?

Ron's glare was full of jealousy and hatred, and his reply was, "You deserve to be with the Dementors for using Dark Magic."

Harry was shocked as he turned back to the lead Auror. "What's going on?"

The Auror looked frustrated and turned to Ron. "Is he always this slow?" She demanded.

"Yes." Ron leered.

Harry couldn't believe what was happening. Why would his best friends betray him like this?

So deep was he in shock, that he didn't notice the Aurors marching him past all the pale, stunned faces and out of the common room, past the corridors and empty classrooms and into the Great Hall.

Harry only woke up from his daze when they exited the castle and were down in the grounds.

"No!" Harry started struggling, pulling at the cuffs that bound his hands together.

†

The man sat in the dark room, watching the pool of water before him carefully. A small smirk played across his lips as he watched the events play out. He didn't so much as blink when the door slammed open a four people hurried in, two men and two women.

By all rights, they looked young; no older than twenty-two years of age. But their eyes told a different story. Each pair of eyes held tales of ageless wisdom, unknown horrors, and untold kindness.

The first man finally looked up and his smirk widened across his pale lips. This man was tall; around six foot, with nearly translucent skin and crimson, cat-like eyes.

"Finally decided to show up, I see." Lord Voldemort grinned, "I was afraid you were going to miss the show."

The tallest of the two men stood foreword with a sarcastic smile. He had tanned skin with stubble growing on his chin, curly blond hair and twinkling blue eyes. "How's he doing?" He asked with a deep, rumbling voice.

Voldemort sat up straight and gestured to the bowl, "Take a look for yourself."

Behind the blond, the other man sauntered foreword. He had long, black hair and a single silver streak that went past his shoulders, and dark emerald eyes.

"Oh, dear Godric!" He faked a swoon and leaned against the blond's, Godric's, shoulder. "How could we ever live without your obsession of asking stupid questions that have obvios answers?"

He stalked past Godric and over to Voldemort, glaring at the blond man with disdain, "you are such a-"

"Will you both shut up for just one second?" the tallest of the women snapped. Long, silver hair cascaded down her back and her vibrant violent eyes glared at the two men. "I am so sick of you baiting each other, it's driving me insane! You are both as bad as each other!"

The other woman, who was plump and had a bushy mas of curly red hair and warm brown eyes, chuckled. All she said was, "Great minds think alike."

"My Lords and Ladies," Voldemort said and motioned for them all to sit down. "Let the show begin."

A/N: Dundundun, the plot thickens. can u guess who the four people are? be sure to check the competition in our other story, Why you shouldn't get Voldemort angry, for a mention in this story. please, R&R! NO FLAMES ARE WELCOME. but constructive criticism is.