Infamous: A Hero Nevermore: 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: Evil Never Dies Response: On his first trip to Diagon Alley, Harry could have never imagined discovering an ancient, powerful secret locked deep inside of him. A secret filled with great power that is now his to command, as well as the power to make the world whatever he wants it to be.
Challenge Information: DZ2's 'Evil Never Dies' Challenge: They say that some evil is so powerful that it never truly dies; it can only transform! But here's a question for you: what happens when said evil finds the soul and power of one whom was born to be a hero?
Rules: Dark or Evil Powerful Harry
Whatever 'The Evil' is, Harry must 'acquire' it or come into knowledge of it either before Hogwarts or during one of his summertime adventures
The Evil must have a backstory and a cult of followers whom become loyal to Harry
When Harry goes to Hogwarts, he must be changed (personality, looks, booksmarts etc.)
His changes unnerve the Golden Trio (what happens next is up to you)
All pairings are welcome
Even if he's still on the run, Sirius CANNOT be against Harry
Somehow, Harry must gain a familiar
Guidelines: Crossovers
Tom and/or Grindelwald know of 'The Evil' and seek to join Harry rather than destroy him
Dark-Trio
Golden Trio divides
Superpowerful/Godlike Harry
Soul Bonds
There is a counter to 'The Evil' whom becomes Harry's true enemy
Dark Creatures become part of Harry's new army
Somehow, Harry gains a dark fortress/citadel/island
Slash
Harry somehow gets a resort
Forbidden: Light or Grey Harry
Harry denying The Evil's power (even if he does fight it/resist it at first)
Others convincing Harry to give up his power
If a pairing does happen, they cannot turn him good again
Sirius against Harry
Other than that, it's up to you...
Author's Note: So, here we have another idea that came to me during the Dark Times – meaning Lockdown – and, knowing how much my friends and fans love my Dark-Harry stories, my mind just went: what the heck, so get ready for some fun and games and chaos.
Oh, and as always, if you don't like it, don't read it.
Dedication: I'd like to dedicate this story to my good friends and all my fellow Darksiders: my recommended reads are Damaged Raven and Dark Lord Potter by JustBored21, Kill me if you can by PercyPendragon3, Harry Potter: Lord of Darkness by AngelSlayer135, The Power Of Love And Family by llst40, Dark Lord Peverell by Callisto Blackridge, When Daylight Dies by BloodyRose90, The Downward Spiral Saga – Harry Potter and the Homecoming, Harry Potter and Salazar's Legacy, Harry Potter and the Year of Broken Chains, Harry Potter and the Return of the Lost, Harry Potter and the Dirge of Hope and Harry Potter and the End of War – by BolshevikMuppet99 and Yield to the Darkness by Quatermass
Key Pairings: Eventual Harry/Daphne/Astoria; Belllatrix/Rodolphus
Other Pairings: To be determined
Normal Speech
'Thoughts'
'Mind Speech'
/Parseltongue/
Chapter 1: Hagrid's Stupid Mistake
"Welcome Harry…to Diagon Alley!"
In any other scenario, as he was led along the narrow, but well-equipped retail sector of London specifically designed for the Magical World, Harry might have felt a little like Alice tumbling down the rabbit hole.
However, in this instance, he wasn't like Alice.
Oh, make no mistake, he was impressed and a little awed at the sight of so many different shops that catered to the Magical World's needs and resources, but, if he was being honest with himself, he was also annoyed. A dark, ominous sense of annoyance that had taken hold of him when Hagrid had basically broadcasted for all of London to hear that he was escorting Harry Potter to Diagon Alley.
At the same time, there was the annoyance that Harry felt because of how people took hearing his name as a cue to surround him and grab his hand, or some other part of him, and say how honoured they were to meet him. And all the while, Hagrid had done nothing, but stand there like some sort of idiot, ignoring the bleeding-obvious flinches and unease felt by Harry at being touched or having anyone in close proximity to him.
And why shouldn't he be uncomfortable or annoyed?
Nevermore
After all, where were all these well-wishers and honoured people over the last ten years when he was being locked in a cupboard, treated like some sort of slave and basically lied to for so long about who he was and what he was capable of?
Where were they when he was being told that all the things he'd made happen – even accidentally – were freakish abominations that meant it was OK for Muggles to hurt and abuse him rather than telling him how special, strong and even powerful he was?
Where in the name of the Devil himself were these magical hypocrites when someone like Hagrid had just dumped him on a freaking doorstep?
Nevermore
As Harry continued following Hagrid down the street, the young boy was a little surprised to feel damp trickling down his cheeks; lifting a hand to his left cheek, a part of him hoping Hagrid wasn't paying attention – then again, given what had happened in the Leaky Cauldron, Harry guessed he was good at that – Harry was surprised to find tears trickling down his cheeks, the touch of wetness against his fingers oddly-warm and even painful to the touch.
He…he was crying?
Why was he crying?
Harry hadn't cried for a long time, not since his sense of self-preservation and a honed sense of observation – given to him and nurtured by nearly ten years of the Dursleys' kindnesses towards him – had made him realise that nobody cared whether he cried, or how hurt he was or how much of a truth he was telling when he talked about the Dursleys.
Not since the day Harry James Potter had realised he was well and truly alone in the world.
Maybe that was why Hagrid's attitude and the reactions of the Magical World had annoyed him so much.
Maybe it was his own self-taught idea of being alone against a world that wouldn't care about him now being shattered and proven really, truly, undeniably wrong because of these toadying sycophants and their belief that Harry was coming back and he'd just accept or forget how the rest of the world abandoned him for ten years.
Yeah, maybe that was why he'd felt so annoyed, even frustrated, and so, as a result, he shed tears of pain, sorrow and even anger.
"Harry? Are yeh a'right?"
Thinking quickly, Harry wiped his eyes on the sleeve of his jumper before he nodded as he looked up to the tactless giant, "Yeah, I…I guess I was just wondering how I'm supposed to pay for all this stuff? I mean, I don't have any money and you heard the Mug…I mean, Uncle Vernon: he's not going to do anything to help me…not that he ever has done…"
Fortunately for Harry, Hagrid's overly-loud voice drowned out the boy's hissed out last words, "Well there's yer money, 'Arry; Gringotts, the wizards' bank! There ain't no safer place…not one…well, 'cept perhaps Hogwarts!"
Even as Harry looked up at the large, white marble building that Hagrid had led him towards, the young boy frowned as a new thought struck him; a thought that soon turned into a question that, if he was being completely honest with himself, Harry had to try very hard not to make it sound like some sort of accusation or fury-filled query as he addressed Hagrid again.
"Hang on, how do you know I have money in here? I've never even had as much as two pennies to rub together."
"Well, of course yeh didn't know about it, Harry," said Hagrid, unaware of two armoured creatures standing either side of a large pair of bronze doors suddenly stiffening as Harry looked to Hagrid while the giant continued, "It was kept safe fer yeh by Professor Dumbledore; he even gave me yer key so I could get yer 'Ogwarts stuff."
"So, what you're saying is that I have money that someone is keeping from me?"
"It's a'right, 'Arry; I have yer key 'ere, given ter me by Professor Dumbledore 'imself an…"
Suddenly, Hagrid's loud voice was cut off while Harry's eyes widened with a mixture of alarm and shock when the creatures on the door moved, drawing long, sharp-looking swords from their armoured waists, both of which they held up to Hagrid in a warning, aggressive manner, while the large man paled in alarm as he asked, "What…what's the meaning of this? I…I'm here on 'Ogwarts business!"
"That may be, sir," said one of the guard-like creatures – which Harry later learned were goblins – his voice thick with warning and sincerity as he went on, "But I assure you: no amount of Hogwarts business can give just cause to the attempted thefts and unlawful manipulations that we have witnessed being revealed here today. Therefore, in the name of our King, we must ask you to surrender your business, as well as this young sir's key, to us until our Chief comes to…deal with you."
Harry had never seen Hagrid as frightened as he was at that moment, though the larger man still tried to regain the high ground like the stupid loud man he was as he insisted, "I 'ave me orders from Professor Dumbledore 'imself: if yeh try anythin' goblin, yeh'll risk war with the Ministry and all wizard-kind fer goin' against the great Albus Dumbledore!"
A sound like a cross between thunder and the sputtering of a large engine suddenly followed Hagrid's words: to Harry's surprise, it was only when he looked to the goblins on the door that he realised they were laughing at Hagrid's choice of words.
Before he could stop himself, Harry asked, "I'm sorry, but…what's so funny, sir?"
"Our apologies, young Heir," replied the other guard, his voice oily and cold in a manner that made Harry think of a nest of scorpions crawling over his skin, while the guard actually gave a curt nod in Harry's direction as he added, "But can you look down?"
When Harry did, the only thing he saw was the first step of the marble-white building known as Gringotts, with Hagrid teetering on the step in front of Harry while the guards were stood on raised levels like the sides of an entryway into an old museum or regal residence.
When Harry looked back to the guard for clarification, the goblin seemed all-too-willing to oblige as he indicated Hagrid with the tip of his sword before he explained, "Were you and this half-giant actually standing on the paved ground of the humans' Diagon Alley, he would be right in saying we could do nothing to challenge his rights to hold the key to your fortunes without your knowing."
"However," added the second guard, his voice more like the rumble of an earthquake, and just as dangerous-looking to, as he continued, "From the moment you and this man stepped onto the very step that you yourself are standing on, young Heir, you entered Goblin Territory and, according to Ancient Treaties that are far, far older than your currently-corrupt excuse for a government, once on our land, it is we goblins who dictate the terms and punishments of crimes committed on Gringotts soil."
'In other words, Hagrid's screwed,' thought Harry.
He didn't know why, but something about the fact that someone was finally facing justice for doing him wrong brought a thin smile to Harry's face, even as he looked to the guards before he asked, "And, if it's not too rude of me to ask, sirs, what is going to happen to me?"
Before the guards could answer, they both stood to attention, holding their swords in a posture that could have only been described as a royal salute as the doors between them opened, revealing a much-larger goblin who actually looked to be about a head shorter than Harry himself.
This goblin was dressed in a suit of metal and mail armour that had more than its fair share of scratches, dents and even a thin hole where the goblin's left leg met his waistline. Aside from his strange choice of attire, the goblin wore a necklace that seemed to be made from gilded skulls and bones, all of which were linked to a large circular medallion that rested over the goblin's chest, the medallion itself emblazoned with a sword and hammer that crossed over an Olde-English-style letter G.
The goblin wore no crown, which surprised Harry – since a part of him had already figured out who this was – but instead, the goblin wore a helmet that was shaped like the upper jaw, nose-and-eye sockets of some terrifying beast, the eyes replaced by two blackish-coloured gemstones that only seemed to hold onto the ferocity of the beast that the skull had belonged to.
Maybe it was this terrifying visage, or maybe it was because of what he had just been told about goblin territory, Harry didn't know, but, before he could stop himself, the young boy found his head lowering, along with his upper body, in a stiff, but – he hoped – respectful bow to the goblin that now stood before him.
While the guards seemed stunned by Harry's move, the newcomer was anything but.
Instead of showing offence or amusement, the newcomer addressed Harry in a deep, but powerful voice, which seemed to fill the very air around them with an air of war and pride.
"Lift your head, Future Lord Potter; you bow to no-one while you are on these grounds."
As Harry lifted his head as he had been told, a part of him was curious about the goblin's reasoning behind saying that he bowed to no-one: why?
Was it another thing about him being the only one to survive Voldemort?
Was it because of this Boy-Who-Lived rubbish that, quite frankly, Harry had only known about for one day and he was already sick and tired of it?
While Harry tried to figure out the answer, he listened as the newcomer addressed Hagrid, "As for you, sir, I believe my brothers told you to return the young Lord's key to him and surrender whatever business you are here to attend to us immediately!"
"But…me orders…"
"Then we give you this choice, giant," growled the newcomer, his eyes – which Harry then noticed were more like burned-out embers in his face, but with a glow that warned the wildfire within could ignite without warning – filled with the very air of authority and power expected of a Chief as he addressed Hagrid with a slightly-dangerous snarl to his next words.
"Your orders or your head…your choice."
"Yeh…yeh can' threaten me…I 'ave me orders from…"
"Very well," said the Chief, drawing a much-larger sword than the ones held by the guards from over his back – where he'd been concealing it, Harry didn't know and, at that moment, he didn't dare ask – before he explained, "Brothers, take this thief and intruder to our cells to await the Judgment of the Nation, but first, search him and retrieve Future Lord Potter's key!"
Harry had never seen Hagrid move as fast as he did when he reached into a pocket and, without waiting for the goblins to get closer, he threw a small bronze key at their feet, as well as an envelope that was stamped and sealed with the words TOP SECRET written along one side.
"THERE!" Thundered Hagrid, holding his hands up in fear as he exclaimed, "Harry's key, as well as me orders from Dumbledore! There, I did what you said, now let me go…please!"
"Too late."
With those words, Harry's eyes widened in shock once again when the guards on the door suddenly threw chains around Hagrid – again, with no idea where they came from, but he didn't dare ask – forcing the giant to his knees, sobbing profusely as the Chief stepped aside, opening the doors to the bank in the process. As Harry watched, Hagrid was quite literally dragged away kicking and screaming, though, when Harry turned to see how others in the Alley were reacting, he saw them all doing their best to look anywhere except at Gringotts.
If he didn't know better, he'd have guessed they knew what Hagrid had stupidly forgotten: that on Gringotts' soil, wizards were nothing, but visitors to a foreign nation and, in that nation, the Chief held the power.
And that Chief was the same goblin who now approached Harry, who actually shrank back in fear, given what he'd just seen.
However, when he saw the fear, the Chief held up a hand as he explained, "Please, young Heir, no cause for alarm: I simply wish to introduce myself formally and officially before offering you a place in my chambers as we discuss matters of business that, if I may be so bold, has been ten years in the making."
Harry was stunned.
Here was a goblin whom, not a few seconds ago, had been judge, jury and – quite-possibly – executioner for a crime committed on his nation's grounds and yet, just like that, he had gone from bloodthirsty warlord and lawmaker to civil, neutrally-minded bank manager serving a client.
Moving back towards the goblin, Harry stepped up onto the top step, which then confirmed that he was taller than the Chief, but only just, before he extended a hand, which he tried to keep from shaking in fear, as he said, "I…I'm honoured t-t-to meet you, sir."
"My name is Warlord Ragnok Dragonsreach, my young Lord," replied the goblin, Ragnok as Harry now knew, though he accepted the hand regardless as he added, "And, for reasons that will soon become clear, the honour is most-definitely my own: now, if you would follow me, Future Lord Potter. I sense time is not on our side and we have much to discuss."
Harry didn't hesitate in following the goblin chief through the doors.
Little did he know that the sound of the large doors slamming shut behind him might as well have been the doors to his old life slamming shut too.
For by the time Harry left Gringotts, even though he didn't know it yet, he would be transformed into something new.
Something…more!
Yikes, talk about a very different beginning, but what is this business that the goblin chief himself has to help Harry with?
Why does our hero bow to no-one, not even the goblin chief himself, and what sort of transformations await Harry within the apparent sanctuary of the goblins' territory?
Also, not that we care too much, but will Hagrid be okay?
Keep Reading to Find Out
Next Chapter: Harry thought he was just discovering the fortune that was rightfully his: little does he know that he is about to discover more than just gold, silver and bronze now rightfully his to control: much, much more…
Please Read and Review
AN: Portrayal
Ragnok – voice: Ian McKellen
