Harry Potter: The Dark One: 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: The world turned on him again: all because of something he didn't do. Very well, if they're going to label him as Dark, then he might as well embrace the Dark. After all, don't they say what you say is what you are?

Author's Note: So, in a weird way, this story is inspired by another fandom that uses the dark one as a reference to a big evil, of sorts, and, well, what can I say? I see dark, I hear dark and my mind goes boom!

So, let's see what sort of chaos can come from this one.

And, as always, if you don't like it, don't read it.

Dedication: I'd like to dedicate this story to those who enjoy the Dark as much as I do: my recommended reads are Apex, Damaged Raven and Dark Lord Potter by JustBored21, Harry Potter: Lord of Darkness by AngelSlayer135, Serpentine Advice by ubiquitouslyverbose, Aspirations by megamatt09, Dark Lord Peverell by Callisto Blackridge, Kill me if you can by PercyPendragon3, The Rise of a Dark Lord by LittleMissXanda, Breaking Point by Carrots123, Rise of the Dark Angel by mykkila09, Dark Prince Rises by Ronin2106, Dark Rage by YamiPaladinofChaos, Rise of the Wizards and Be Careful What You Wish For by Teufel1987, Do Not Meddle In The Affairs Of Wizards by Corwalch and 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

Key Pairing: Harry/Katie/Luna

Other Pairings: To be determined

Normal Speech

'Thoughts'

'Mind Speech'

/Parseltongue/

Prologue: A Different Resurrection

'Stupid, stupid, stupid, stupid, clueless, blind-as-a-bat fucking Champion!'

It was a good thing Harry was swearing mentally, because if anyone heard him, they probably would have seen the air turn blue while they also chose to chastise him and label him more than they already had that year.

But, really, who could blame him?

Even with everything he had done, every preparation he had considered, every move he'd planned out and every outcome he had considered possible, he'd still fallen into the trap like a blundering novice.

If only he hadn't been distracted by fools, madmen, plans and ambitions of feeble-minded hypocrites who couldn't see the wood for the trees and, of course, the stresses and strains of fucking teenage hormones and the growths and changes taking place in his body, Harry might have been better prepared for the Portkey hidden within the Triwizard Cup.

Still, at least he had managed to make sure he triggered it alone.

Even so, as he watched the coward of an insect, otherwise known as Peter Pettigrew do his dirty work, performing a dark ritual involving the bones of Tom Riddle's Father, the flesh of the cowardly rat himself – who didn't even have the foresight to cut off his fingerless hand, which might have made clearing Sirius' name impossible – and, finally, Harry's own blood, Harry cursed his stupidity, his naivety and, quite frankly, how he should have seen this coming.

Gods, it was a good thing he was alone, because those baying hyenas would never let him live it down if they knew that the Dark Champion had been caught in so easy a trap.

As Harry watched Wormtail add the final drops of his blood to the cauldron, however, the young wizard's eyes widened when, with the first drop of his blood added to Tom Riddle Junior's mangled, deformed excuse for a body, something else happened that Harry also didn't expect.

One moment he was watching Pettigrew do his work, cursing his stupidity and, the next thing he knew, a great wave of otherworldly magical fury ripped through Harry's body, making his blood sing with power, the likes of which he'd never even felt before, not even with all his training and the things he had done to prepare for the tasks.

As he watched, marvelling at the power that he felt coursing through his veins, Harry saw him.

Lord Voldemort, the snake-faced, red-eyed son-of-a-bitch who'd made it his life's ambition to see Harry destroyed; well now, that Dark Lord was reborn, in a none-too-flattering body, in Harry's honest opinion, his expression filled with a mixture of awe, wonder, pride and, for a brief moment, what Harry thought he recognised as alarm, if not fear.

But what Voldemort had to fear, Harry didn't know.

Or, at least, he didn't know until the Dark Lord turned to the cowering, handless idiot that was Pettigrew before he rasped in an ice-cold, hissing tone of voice, "My wand…Wormtail."

Like the good slave he was, Wormtail surrendered the wand.

This left him beyond vulnerable, as Voldemort himself proved when, all of a sudden, his wand flew upwards before it emitted a bright, auburn-coloured flash, which struck Wormtail hard and fast, sending him spiralling off into the distance, leaving him unconscious near the Triwizard Cup.

As Harry stared in bewilderment, he watched as Voldemort turned to him before, flicking his wand at Harry, he removed the bonds holding Harry to the stone angel that Wormtail had bound him to.

Even more surprising, if only for Harry, was how, when he was released, Harry seemed to glide to the ground before he walked towards Voldemort with a cold, dark air about him that, were it not for the fact that the past several months had been full of Dark Magic and turning away from the hero he used to be, might have actually frightened Harry.

Though not as much as the first thing he said to the Dark Lord as he reached the spot where Voldemort stood.

"Well done, Tom: you know, for a minute there, I actually thought you were going to kill me."

"I have no desire to kill you, my Lord," replied Voldemort, his voice as cold as ever, but edged by a note of raw submission, which only showed itself when, barely a second later, the Dark Lord did something nobody would have expected.

He dropped to one knee, bowing down before Harry James Potter, as he laid his wand upon the ground, awaiting the boy's next words.

Harry, meanwhile, cocked an eyebrow before he smiled, closing his eyes for a long moment as he chuckled to himself;

'So, this was the surprise you said I'd discover when the time was right, Salazar? Well, colour me surprised…'

So, much like another story of mine, we start in a not-too-distant future, but…WOW: talk about Dark Futures awaiting us: why is Voldemort bowing down to the one he seeks to kill?

Why is he calling Harry his Lord and choosing to ignore the desire to kill him?

Why is Harry so accepting of it? Could it have anything to do with that magical energy he felt as the Dark Lord was revived?

Or could it have something to do with Salazar and whatever it was that was said about surprises?

Keep Reading to Find Out

Next Chapter: Once upon a time, in a magical castle, a boy became a man and a hero became something more when the world decided it was time to stop believing in childish things and show their true colours: well, as an old man once said: oh dear, you are in trouble…

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