Ryu: Hello everyone! We present to you the second chapter of this epic!

Sylv: Yes. And this epic has just achieved even more epic proportions inside my head... you see, I recently realised that I was practically planning for a sequel... and then I realised it would be not one, but two sequels... not to mention that one of them is shaping out to be a massive crossover with about ten other books & animes/mangas...

Soma: Well, but that's a long way away. More importantly, in the prologue we forgot to credit someone! (gasps of shock from the audience) You see, our friend Andrea helped us write that wonderful prophecy that Harry keeps dreaming of! So, a big thanks to Andrea is in order!!

Sylv: I'm also rather sorry for telling people I'd update very soon and then not following through... I truly thought I would! But then school started, and with it such wonderful things as research paper and essays and projects and presentations arrived... in other words, I ws very busy indeed...

Soma: And you got distracted by Naruto fanfics...

Sylv: Shush you! You weren't supposed to say that! Anyway, another thing we forgot to mention: Parseltongue will not be marked in any particular way. You can just assume that it's parseltongue when Voldemort and Harry are talking, since those two alwaysspeak parseltongue with each other. Something about superiority and a childish desire for secrecy...

Voldemort: What was that? *death glare*

Sylv: Nothing! Ahehe... ignore me, please. I've had too much chocolate.

Ryu: Now, before you hurt yourself, I better take over. Neither Harry Potter nor Naruto belong to us, nor do we earn any money with this. I think we forgot to mention that last chapter... let this disclaimer count for last chapter too, then. We also didn't come up with the idea of killing muggles for Earth's good, we were inspired on that one by "Jaded Eyes of a Prodigy" by wickedlfairy17. It's agreat Dark!Harry story, we can only recommend it to you! We also borrowed the node theory from Mercedes Lackey's Valdemar Series. They're great books, some of them with slash, so go read!

Soma: Additionally, you might want to note that BCE stands for Before Common Era and CE stands for Common Era, the two being non-Christian terms for BC and AD, respectively. I just don't think that Mr. We-must-save-Mother-Earth-from-the-evil-muggles-Voldemort would be too happy with anything Christianity-related - after all, worship of/belief in Mother Earth is not particularly Christian, and Christianity is most DEFINITELY a PURELY muggle religion.

Ryu: Before we forget, thanks to everyone who reviewed! Every single one of them made me squee with happiness. ^___^ Anyway, enough talking! On with the story!

Dark Lords Ascending

Chapter 2:The Test

It was another hot midsummer's day, and all the children were enjoying their freedom from the demands of school, whether on the playground, swimming, or simply catching up on some much-needed rest. All who could were outside, enjoying the sun and light breeze. No-one wanted to stay indoors in this stifling heat. No-one, that is, except for one slight eight-year-old boy who sat at a table in the library, reading a thick tome labelled The Golden Bough vol. VIII while an enormous dictionary lay open to the left of said volume. The boy was busily taking notes in a bound exercise book that was already half-filled with his neat handwriting. Looking at his watch, the boy carefully bookmarked his page, put the book back on the shelf, then piled the exercise book on top of the dictionary and made his way to the front of the library, stopping on the way to leave the dictionary on its designated table. On his way out he smiled at the librarian and the normally stern librarian let a smile of her own flit across her face. Harry smirked internally. He had that librarian wrapped around his little finger just because he was such a serious and hard-working little boy who never presumed to fool around in the Sacred Halls of the Library, as he had dubbed them.

On his way back to Privet Drive, he stopped by at the grocer's and bought the pound of green beans that Petunia had ordered. He barely refrained from skipping on his way back. School was out, Petunia let him go to the library, Voldemort was training him – life was good.

As soon as he arrived at the house, he entered the kitchen and proceeded to make himself useful for the rest of the day, cleaning, cooking, and all sorts of little jobs around the house. After the Dursley's had dinner he cleared the table, put the dishes in the dishwasher, washed the pots and pans, and cleaned the kitchen. Once he was done with that he bade the Dursleys who were sitting in the living room watching TV a good night and went to the bathroom for his evening ablutions before retiring to his cupboard. Only then did he permit himself to relax. He changed into his pyjamas, sat down cross-legged on the end of the mattress where the ceiling was highest, and, closing his eyes, repeated what Voldemort had drilled into him: Clear your mind. He knew it was near impossible for someone at his stage to achieve this without a crutch. His favoured meditation technique was the breathing exercise, so he concentrated on the way his lungs filled with air, and then deflated, pushing all the air back out.

Gradually his breathing slowed and he entered into an almost trance-like state of relaxation. I wonder when Voldemort will turn up today, he thought dreamily, but immediately admonished himself, clear your mind. He remembered some of the books he had read at the library that had seemed to explain meditation better than Voldemort had, and shook his head. Those foolish muggles have no idea what they're talking about when they make it seem like meditation is the easiest thing in the world, he thought ruefully, then tried to drag his wandering mind back to the task at hand by force of will. I can't wait for the day I can finally kill the Dursleys in the most painful way possible for misusing me as a house-elf… Naturally, it didn't work. It never did… and now his mind was fully distracted. Sighing, he fixed his attention once more on calming his breathing.

He opened his eyes only when he felt the slight disturbance in the air that meant that Voldemort had just arrived. Without saying a word, the serpent expanded the room and transformed into his human form. He shot a few rapid kunai at Harry, who leaped up from where he had been sitting just in time, the kunai harmlessly hitting the mattress instead of him. Nimbly he dodged the missiles thrown at him, almost crashing into someone as he dodged one of the darts. He whipped his head around, coming face-to-face with one of the featureless shadow-stalkers that Voldemort favoured when training Harry. It was about the average strength of a trained human, and as such possible for Harry to defeat, whereas Voldemort was a vampire with superhuman strength – Harry dodged the blow coming from the back. While he had been daydreaming, he had been surrounded by no less than ten shadow-stalkers. As the first one lunged at him, he kicked it in the face, breaking its nose – which would have been very painful for a human – and while that one was distracted, he whirled around and smashed the windpipe of the one behind him with the side of his hand. He spun around again to hit another one in the face with his fist, tripped a fourth so that it fell down, jumped on the fallen one's head to smash its skull and elbowed the one creeping up behind him in the guts, then grabbed the two in front of him, bashed their heads together with a satisfying "crunch" and kneed another one in the groin. The first one to attack had by now recovered from the broken nose and tried to jump on his back to strangle him, but Harry simply ducked and the would-be assailant sailed over his head and crashed into another, effectively incapacitating both for the time being. Another shadow-stalker attacked him, but he kicked that one in the face so hard that his spine snapped. Two of the ones he had hurt but not killed charged him from both sides, so Harry thrust two fingers into the eye of one and jabbed the other one in exactly the place where the central nerve was, making him unable to move. Then he walked around his fallen opponents, efficiently breaking all their necks to make sure they wouldn't pose a threat to him anymore. At that moment, a silent crucio from Voldemort hit him. Harry ground his teeth to keep from crying out. This was part of his training – enduring the most intense pain for as long as possible. Harry knew the theory behind that – retreat into your mind and even the most intense torture won't affect you. But the pain of the Cruciatus was no physical pain – the reason it was labelled as an Unforgivable by the British Ministry of Magic was because there was no was no way to escape the pain, for the Cruciatus attacked the pain centre in the brain directly. There was nothing for it but to endure the agony as best as you could. Harry distracted himself from the pain with thoughts like these for as long as possible, but finally the sensation overwhelmed him and he screamed, a hoarse yell that left his throat sore from the abuse.

The pain stopped abruptly. Slowly Harry opened his eyes – which he had screwed hut during the ordeal – and looked around blearily as he gradually got up. His eyes wouldn't focus properly and his whole body felt numb, but he knew that this would quickly pass. The after-effects of the Cruciatus vanished remarkably quickly, the mind recovering from the shock when it got the message from the nerves that nothing was hurting. He looked at Voldemort questioningly. "Four minutes three seconds," the vampire answered the unspoken question. "You have done very well. Even my most loyal Death Eaters could never manage more than three minutes." Harry was hard-pressed not to beam at this compliment. He was better than Voldemort's most loyal followers! He was finally starting to be good enough for his role as the prophecy dictated. What kind of Dark Lord could not endure a little pain, after all?

Voldemort threw a sword at him and Harry caught it reflexively. A second sword – one that would suppress Voldemort's strength down to the levels of a very strong human – appeared in Voldemort's right hand and the two started duelling without delay. As they fought, Voldemort barked: "First record of wizards?" And Harry immediately shot back: "5423 BCE."

"Era of the Wizard-Pharaohs?"

"3420 to 1201 BCE."

"Wizard-Emperor dynasties in Japan?"

"610 to 1101 CE."

"First Goblin-Wizard Wars in Britain?"

"710 to 714 CE."

"Last true Dark Lord of the British Isles?"

"Morgana of the Fae, balanced with Merlin the Light Lord, 510 to 570 CE."

"First Council of Dark Lords?"

"200 BCE."

"Participants?"

"Lady Dolores of Europe, Lord Tsukiyomi of the Japanese Isles, Emperor Xian-Zhu of continental Asia, Sultan Hamir of the Orient, and the Dark Lord and Lady of India who assumed the names of their patron gods, Shiva and Kali."

What happened in 1623 CE?"

"The first anti-vampire law was passed by the British Ministry of Magic."

"Only known family of Dark Lords in history?"

"The Japanese family now known as the Uchiha Clan."

"How come Morgana of the Fae lived in the 6th Century, yet she made the prophecy that speaks of us a thousand years ago?"

Harry hesitated and Voldemort's sword was suddenly at his throat. "You're dead," Voldemort said softly. Then he felt the cold point of a dagger under his arm. "You too," Harry replied just as quietly.

"You cheated."

"Yes," Harry replied blithely. "Why should I not press my advantage just because it's not 'honourable'?"

Voldemort laughed and lowered his sword. "You passed, Harry. Now we will begin the second part of your education. Review what you know about the usage of magic."

Harry's eyes lit up at the prospect of finally studying the practical aspects of magic, but he controlled his urge to jump up in excitement and instead started recounting the basics of magical theory.

"Magic is, in essence, energy in its purest form. As such, all things on Earth have magic in them, whether they can use this magic or not. Even stones are infused with magic. In Earth Herself, magic is not distributed equally. Instead, magic flows from one place to another in streams, collecting in so-called nodes; often magical communities are built on these. Hogwarts is situated on such a node, for instance. Most witches and wizards are drawn to these places without knowing exactly why.

"Magic in plants and rocks tends to be spread equally throughout the entire body. Animals and humanoid creatures, on the other hand, have a magical core that is, as the name suggests, at the core of their being. This refers not to the physical body, but to the astral body, of which the mind of sentient beings is but a small part. Some sentient creatures have, in addition to the magical core, pathways leading from the magical core into the mind and the physical body, which enables them to utilise this magic. These are commonly known as magical creatures or, more politely, magical beings. Most species are either entirely magical or entirely non-magical, the only known exception being the humans.

"Even among the fully magical races, magical cores can vary in size, as can the size of the pathways from magic to body. These two factors along with training decide how much an individual can do with his magic. Some wizards can barely levitate a feather, while others can utilise their magic in an infinite variety of ways.

"Magic can be employed in various ways; these differ mainly in how the magic is directed.

"First of all, magic can be directed through emotions. Wizard children often display this when they experience strong emotions. Wizards call this accidental magic. While rather powerful, it is nearly impossible to control, as emotions themselves are very uncontrolled in both their intensity and frequency.

"Second of all, one can focus the magic through an item specially constructed for this task. Wizards use wands made of wood – a good magic conductor – and a core taken from a magical creature to amplify the magic coming directly from the caster. The use of wands includes the use of spells, specific words – whether spoken or merely thought – that help direct the intention of the caster. Most wizards use this method, and it is very safe, as the magic must first go through the wand before it is released. It is also excellent for magically weaker wizards, as the magical core of the wand enhances the wizard's magic and thus enables him to cast stronger spells than he normally would. Other common focuses are precious stones and metals as well as crystals.

"The third method of employing magic is through force of will. This method requires a great control over the mind, as one has to be able to concentrate all one's thoughts on the task at hand. This method is used only very rarely, as most people are unable to focus their attention fully on one thing for even a second, though elves purportedly use this method only.

"The last method currently in use involves directing the magic through a ritual. Rituals are classified as a Dark Art, as they require great power of the caster but also amplify this magic by various means. Ritual magic takes considerably more time than the other methods and is used only rarely. The magic is directed by certain words, gestures, actions, and symbols.

"There are various other methods, most of which have been lost over time, but a minor method that can be used for certain things is to focus the magic in a certain part of the body to enhance its functions; for instance a person might focus his magic in his eyes to gain telescopic sight for a certain amount of time. This however is merely a sub-point of the magic of the Will and thus hardly known anymore."

With that, Harry finally finished his monologue detailing the various ways to wield magic. He looked at Voldemort for confirmation. Voldemort nodded slightly in acknowledgement. "I trust you have not yet gained full control of your mind?"

Harry frowned in consternation. "No," he said unhappily. "Sometimes I manage to clear my mind for a time, but then a thought slips in and all is lost."

"No matter," Voldemort reassured him. "Once we release your magic fully it should be a lot easier. In order to achieve that I will need to guide you to your mind. This will be easier if you assume a reclining position."

Without a word, Harry lay down flat on his mattress, arms lying loosely by his sides with his palms facing upward and his eyes closed.

"Now, relax all your muscles one by one," Voldemort started in an even voice. "First your legs – then your arms – your torso – your face muscles – feel the relaxation infusing your very bones. Imagine you are lying outside on a field of grass. Feel the blades tickling the side of your face. Smell the freshness of the air. It is night-time, and the light breeze feels cool on your skin. You open your eyes and get up slowly. Look around. Do you see a house anywhere?"

"Yes…" Harry said in a slow, lethargic voice. There is… a house at the bottom of the hill…"

"Good. Now go to that house and tell me what it looks like."

For a while there was silence, then Harry said evenly, "The house has white walls and many windows… the door is black with a silver handle. There is a symbol on the door in silver…"

"Describe this symbol to me."

"It is… a circle inside a square… in the circle there is the rune mannaz…"

"Very well. Now open the door and enter the house. Describe what it looks like inside."

"… there is a small hall… the walls are… white… but the floor is black… there are three hallways leading away from the hall. One is black, one is red, and one green…"

"This is the house of your mind. This is what your mind looks like to you. From here you can find your magic. What hallway do you think your magic is in?"

For a long time Harry was silent. Then, abruptly, he spoke, "green."

"Then go down the green hallway. Do you see any light coming from anywhere?"

"The walls are glowing… but there seems to be a stronger light at the end of the hall…"

"Go towards that light. Where does it come from?"

"… there is a door at the end… it is black and silver… it is locked and bolted shut. But there are a number of cracks… the light is coming from behind the door…"

"Do you think you can open it?"

"I'll try…"

Silence once more descended on the room. Suddenly, without any warning whatsoever, Harry arched up from his mattress and screamed. Voldemort winced. He knew how painful it was when the raw magic of the core suddenly tore through the mind and reorganised everything. Not to mention the physical pain of the magic fully entering the bloodstream. Well, at least this way Harry would have no problems with either Legilimency or Occlumency…

Abruptly, Harry stopped screaming. He snapped his eyes open and looked over at Voldemort. "What was that?" He asked in wonderment.

"That was your magic fusing with your mind and body. And clearing your mind in the process. Why don't you try meditating for a moment?"

Harry obediently sat up cross-legged and closed his eyes. After a few minutes he opened his eyes and looked at Voldemort in astonishment. "No thoughts!" he whispered. "Only my magic surrounding me, enveloping me…"

"From now on, every time you sit down to meditate, you will find yourself in your magical core. Your task now is to always retain that state of bliss – but not to loose awareness of your surroundings in the process. I do not expect you to achieve this goal any time soon. It is one of the reasons ancient vampires need so little sleep, but it takes years of practice."

Harry nodded in acquiescence, but asked, "if my magic managed to clear my mind in under five minutes, then why did I have to attempt it by myself for over two years?"

"Your mind was already less cluttered than the mind of a normal human being. Even so, you went through an immense amount of pain when the magic ripped through your mind and body. A person who had not practiced meditation diligently for at least two years would be consumed by the sudden influx of pure, raw magic."

"Oh. So if I hadn't meditated, I could have died just now?" Harry asked.

"That is so. Now, don't you want to try out that magic that is now at your disposal?"

Harry's eyes lit up at that. "So, how do I do it?" he asked eagerly.

Voldemort shook his head in amusement at Harry's enthusiasm, presenting Harry with a feather he had literally pulled out of thin air. "Feel the magic running through your veins. Then try to guide that magic towards levitating this feather."

Harry closed his eyes and remembered the feel of his magic. He tried to find that feeling in his body. For a long time, his efforts were futile, then he finally felt the steady pulse of the magic in his blood. He narrowed down his view until he felt only the magic in his fingertips, then he pulled on the magic as if trying to extend his fingers and touched the feather with it. He "picked up" the feather with his magic, using the magic as an extension of his fingers. Voldemort looked on in approval as the feather rose towards the ceiling. "Very good," he said, "How did you go about it?"

"I used my magic like an extension of my fingers."

"Yes, that is one way of employing your magic, always imagining how you would solve the task 'by hand', so to speak. From now on, practice levitating the feather until you can do it in under a second and hold it for over five minutes. I will be gone for the next week or so. In the meantime, I want you to start thinking about the name you would like to assume. I would rather not rule side-by-side with a Dark Lord Potter, or even worse a Dark Lord Harry."

Harry winced. It sounded ridiculous. "Yes, I shall be glad to discard this plebeian name very soon."

"You will still have to use it around other people," Voldemort cautioned. "It just won't be you real name."

Harry made a face. He couldn't wait until he could finally get rid of his annoying name permanently.

"A word of warning," Voldemort added, "Don't make your name too obvious. Don't call yourself Lucifer or Nefarian, for instance. And remember that you will bear this name for centuries. Choose wisely."

"I will," Harry said quietly.

"Well, I must take my leave," Voldemort said. "Till we meet again." And with that, he changed the room back to its original cupboard-size and phased out.

XXX

The next day found Harry at the library, standing at the front desk with an endearing expression gracing his face. "Excuse me, Mrs. Doury, I'm very sorry for interrupting, but could I ask you something?"

The librarian melted at the look of his wide, innocent eyes. "Why, you aren't interrupting anything," she said warmly, "ask away."

"I was wondering if you could tell me anything about the name 'Voldemort'."

The librarian frowned. "It does not seem familiar," she mused. "Could you write it down for me?"

Obligingly, Harry wrote down Voldemort's name on the piece of paper the librarian handed him.

"Hm… it looks French…" the librarian muttered, then drew a line between the 'l' and the 'd' and another between the 'e' and the 'm'. "What little I know of French tells me that this is a name made up of these three words. I suggest you check in a French-English dictionary what they mean."

Thanking the librarian profusely, Harry wandered over to the section of the library where he would find foreign-language dictionaries.

Ten minutes later, Harry sat bemused as the full meaning of Voldemort's name was revealed. Flight or theft from death? He thought. There is obviously a very good reason Voldemort told me to be careful with choosing my name… it's a good thing not too many British wizards know French…

Harry shook himself out of his reverie. He had only limited time, and he wanted to start his search for a new name today. Rising, he put the French-English dictionary back where it had come from and moved over one shelf to the various English dictionaries. Thesaurus… no… dictionary of proverbs… no… dictionary of place names in England… no… dictionary of Christian names… no… dictionary of names… yes. He took out the book and checked first if there was an index. Unfortunately, this one did not have one. He looked back at the shelf. More of the same... but three books further on there was a book called Name Your Character. Harry smiled wryly. That might be the book he was looking for.

XXX

A week later, Harry had finally, after much deliberation, chosen his new name. Now he was waiting for Voldemort to arrive so that they could finish the Naming Ritual, though it was magically more like a contract than an actual ritual. To pass the time, he practiced levitating the feather and make it zoom around the cupboard. He hated to admit it to himself, but it was fun. Just then, Voldemort phased into the cupboard in his snake form. "Ah, I see you have mastered the art of levitation," he said as he expanded the cupboard and transformed into his human form. "Have you also chosen a name?"

"Yes I have." Harry said seriously, then stood up in front of Voldemort.

"Then what name hast thou chosen, Nameless One?"

"I have chosen the name of Azriel for mine own use."

"Then from now on thou shalt be known as Azriel. So mote it be!"

"So mote it be!"

With those words, the magic bound these words and made them true. Harry Potter no longer existed. The boy who bore the infamous curse-scar was now and forevermore Lord Azriel.

XXXXXX

Sylv: So? How did you like it?

Soma: Please tell us! As always, construcitve critisism is much appreciated! Please be honest!

Ryu: We'll update as soon as we can! ^^ Ja ne!