Harry Potter: God of Darkest Magic
Disclaimer/Plot/Author's Note: SEE FIRST CHAPTER
Dedication: I'd like to dedicate this story to FirstSilverKing for inspiring me: my recommended reads are The Hollow Prince by FirstSilverKing, Dakaath: Prince of Darkness by LT2000, Harry Potter: Lord of Darkness by AngelSlayer135, The Downward Spiral Saga by BolshevikMuppet99, Darkly Dreaming Harry by Lineape, Dark Lord Potter and Silver King by JustBored21, The Rise of a Dark Lord by LittleMissXanda, Kill me if you can by PercyPendragon3, Harry Potter: Rise of Darkness by Rezurex, Prince of Death, Return of the Speaker's Heir and Remembrance of the Grim Wolf by The Potters of the Future and This Is My Father's World by GenkaiFan
Key Pairing: Harry/Hecate
Other Pairings: To be determined
Normal Speech
'Thoughts'
'Mental Speech'
/Parseltongue/
Review Answers:
PLPanda: Ha, thanks for the laugh, my friend: I'm glad you enjoyed the outcome;
HughJasz: Yeah, but this isn't exactly a normal story, friend, so, as always, don't like, don't read;
WhiteElfElder: If you go back to the end of Chapter 2, you'll see he did change the whiner-baby into the pig he was;
Winged Seer Wolf: Yes, but I didn't use Steve Coogan's portrayal: I used my personal favourite 'devil' portrayal, Tom Ellis, as the Lord of the Dead; trust me, as I learned from my other HP/PJO XOver, people don't like the movies much, but I do and yet, it doesn't mean I am comparing the movie to my idea of what the Gods look like;
XxKonekoLoverxX: I think I can swing that request for you…although I also have a plan for the redhead too;
God
ALSO: Once again, I must dedicate a chapter to a reviewer who made me laugh with what they wrote in their review.
PLPanda wrote the following in their review…
'The revenge really felt like a good ol' ancient greek curse. "...and then, for their insolence, he cursed them. They dared to raise their hands on a god, and for that, he made them suffer. First, he sent madness onto the wife, making her devoted to him over all others. By his word did she murder her husband, who at the time was paralyzed with fear and the god's power. Once he was done, he turned the son into a pig and ordered the wife to prepare him for dinner. Her madness made her unaware of the truth of the events and the god then made the spirit of the son watch as he fed on his body. He made the son experience everything as he feasted. And, once sated, he revealed the truth to the wife, but she no longer cared, consumed by madness entirely. And so he made her his pet and treated her like a dog. He made her serve her and suffer like they tried to make him suffer..."
So, as a thanks for the good laugh and the idea of such a comparison, I dedicate this chapter to PLPanda, whom I hope enjoys the rest of the story as we progress…
And on that note…
God
Once that was done, the dark god made his way upstairs where, with a whisper of his powers, he transformed the master bedroom into a space fit for a King, before he emptied out the now-useless guest bedroom and Dudley's two other bedrooms. He would find a use for them later, but, for now, he was full, he was content and he was very tired.
All he wanted to do now was rest.
And look forwards to the next injection of madness he would deliver unto these mortals.
Chapter 4: The God-Who-Lived
After his very interesting, and funny, act of vengeance against his tormentors, Harry really started to enjoy the fruits of his labours.
For one thing, with Pet now his obedient dog, and not even caring about how she had sacrificed her son to feed and nourish her God, Harry's life got a hell of a lot better at home and at school.
Even though reality was his to command, as his Father had told him, Harry let people think that Dudley and Vernon had run away, the latter fleeing the law due to embezzlement and tax evasion charges dating back to the day he became the Head of Grunnings.
Speaking of the boringly-dull business, Harry used some of his power to plant the evidence against Vernon, before he used a bit more to arrange a business meeting with the business' board of directors and a company who wanted to consume Grunnings and make it part of their construction and homewares empire. Suffice to say, by the end of it, Harry Potter was set for life, not that money was even a problem for him thanks to his powers, as well as a king's ransom of a fortune that he knew – from talks with the disembodied voice of his Father – lay beneath the streets of London, in an isolated part of the world known as Diagon Alley.
Meanwhile, Harry had a little more fun with his toys in Little Whinging.
When he wasn't toying with Pet, Harry amassed a reputation on the playground that saw him go from freak to fan favourite, the idolisation of any and all other kids who found themselves bullied by weaker opponents and the bane of the aforementioned bullies.
Of course, he also made sure to deal with the rabble as he saw fit if ever they got on his nerves.
God
Like when Piers Polkiss – who'd been his second-biggest annoyance and enemy, after the joint-first nuisances that were the not-so-dearly-departed Vernon and the late, but tasty, Dudley – tried to make something of Dudley's disappearance, naming himself the new king of the playground and demanding that Harry show the king respect by bowing down and kissing his feet.
Instead of bowing down, however, Harry just scoffed before he turned his back on Piers and, like a cat in a litter box, he kicked dust in the would-be king's face. When Piers tried to attack Harry in retaliation, the dark god ran off, giving the impression of the idiot's favourite game of Harry Hunting still being a thing.
And yet, minutes later, a strange, confusing event took place when, somehow, a large tiger had mauled Piers, tearing great chunks and strips out of him before, apparently sated, the tiger turned to a confused Harry and nuzzled him, purring softly.
Suffice to say, the boy who could tame wild tigers soon became an awe-inspiring story on the playground, changing people's opinions of Harry pretty damn quickly.
And the reward money for apparently helping return the escaped tiger to the zoo also made Harry's day, especially when he used it to buy as many sweets and treats as he could, all of which he decided to share with Piers' victims, further fuelling his benevolent reputation.
By the time he was done, if there was a king of the playground, everyone who was there knew who it was.
Harry Potter.
God
Another example of the rabble getting on Harry's nerves came around when his other least-favourite relative – albeit one that wasn't even related to him – Aunt Marge, Uncle Vernon's sister, made an unexpected visit to Number Four, shouting the odds about her brother's crimes and how, if anyone was to blame, it was Harry.
Unfortunately for the sow-like female who was only ever drunk on days ending in the letter Y, she had just walked into a snake pit and awoken the most-venomous breeds there. This was made more-evident when Pet, defending her Master's honour as was her duty, smashed beer bottles over Marge's skull, before pouring turpentine down the vicious bitch's throat, while Marge flailed and floundered like a beached manatee on dry land.
Much to the evil drunkard's alarm, as bad as Pet's treatment of her was, it was made even worse when, instead of defending his mistress, Marge saw Ripper sitting faithfully at Harry's heels, moaning contentedly as he was petted and stroked by the boy she'd often used as her favourite target for drunken ravings.
Once the turpentine bottle was empty, Harry watched with glee as Pet added fuel to the fire, almost literally, as she shoved an electric lighter – like the ones used to ignite the hob if it ever refused to light – into Marge's mouth and, while Marge squealed in protest, Pet pushed the ignition button.
On that day, the line of Dursley well and truly ended.
Though Pet got a special treat from her master, consisting of a meaty mulchy stew-like mixture that was actually made up of the mutilated remains of the rest of Marge's cross-bred – and probably bestiality-fetish-fuelling, Harry wouldn't have been surprised to learn – army of mutts.
All except the worst of the worst, Ripper, whom Harry used to redefine the meaning of the foodstuff hot dogs…
God
For the next few years, Harry lived the life of luxury, growing stronger, more-confident and, at times that he was certain to use his powers to make sure no-one, but him remembered them, he also grew darker and less-human in his mindset.
But, in truth, he was just counting down the days.
After all, there was one thing, and only one, he was looking forwards to, now he decided he was satisfied, if only temporarily, with how he had terrorised many of the humans into being such caring, considerate neighbours and earning a strong reputation among the weaker human children as their apparent protector, saviour and, at times, provider.
And why wouldn't he?
God rewarded the faithful and loyal, and punished the wrongdoers, after all.
Finally, a few short days before the date that would be Harry's eleventh birthday, the countdown ended.
God
As was the norm, Harry awoke to a warm, if not record-setting sunny July morning, without so much as a cloud in the sky, but at least there was a cooling breeze that blew through the shady areas of the street.
As he stretched up, scratching at a random spot on his chest, Harry smiled softly as he stepped out of bed before he made his way out onto the landing; thanks to what he'd done to the house, his upstairs sanctuary now looked more like the residence of a noble spirit. The other bedrooms had been transformed into a large, comfortable library, as well as an indoor swimming pool.
Of course, there was the bathroom, which was well-decorated and, as Pet knew all too well, only for her Master's use – while, whenever he felt like making his slave feel better about herself, Harry basically drowned her in ice-cold water in an old tin tub in the back garden – while the room that had once housed all Dudley's spare, broken toys now housed a memorial that Harry made sure to visit at least once a day.
After all, his Father might be the Ultimate God, but his mortal shell had still passed on, as had his Mother, and Harry took every opportunity to honour that memory and thank them both for what they had risked for him.
Heading for the room with the pool, Harry dived into the crystal-clear water with the perfect technique of an Olympian, where the dark god swam several lengths before, reaching the side closest to the door, he sighed contentedly as he rose up and sat on the edge of the pool, "Ah, nothing like a nice, relaxing swim in our own personal pool to really wake a guy up."
As Harry leaned back, however, he hummed thoughtfully as he felt his stomach rumble, reminding the rest of his body that it was just the first thing in the morning. "It certainly builds up an appetite."
Getting to his feet, Harry walked out of the pool room, not even bothering to dry off as he walked down the stairs, stopping only once as he reached the foot of the stairs, only to be greeted by a small pile of letters on the mat, as well as something that wasn't there.
"Pet!"
A loud thud came from the cupboard under the stairs, earning a scowl from Harry as he turned to see Pet poke her head and much-thinner body out of the space she had been kindly given by her master.
"Y…Yes Master?"
"Why are you wasting my time lazing away under there?" asked Harry hotly, indicating the mat before he asked, "Can't you see these deliveries messing up my home? And where's my breakfast? How dare you slack off when you know how important my meals are to me!"
"I…I'm sorry, Master…" gasped Pet, crawling forwards on her hands and knees before, to Harry's amusement, she picked up the letters in her teeth, before she turned back to her Master as she added, "Please…let me dispose of them for you, Master; I…I'm a good Pet, I promise I am. Please, I'll do anything to make you happy again."
"Then you know what I want you to do, you filthy disgusting creature," said Harry, snatching one of the letters from Pet's jaws, before he turned on his heel and walked into the kitchen where, without a backwards glance, Harry conjured up his favourite choice for breakfast – a large stack of hot pancakes and all the trimmings – before he sat down in his favourite chair.
Pet, meanwhile, crawled to the space under the table before she made herself as small as possible, though not before she felt Harry rest his wet feet and bare legs along her body. "Ah, good pet; you do know what I want…now, stay there while I eat. Stay quiet enough and I might let you use the stale bread in the bin to make some burnt toast for your own breakfast."
"Thank you, Master," gasped Pet, lowering her head to the ground, before she said nothing else as she heard her hungry, disappointed master dig into his feast, savouring every bite while he also occasionally kicked his heels against her skin. At one point, he even moved his right foot up to Pet's face, smothering her with the scent of his pool's water while he also pressed his foot right up against her face. With his other foot, Harry let it hang beneath Pet, but only so he could kick out at her ribs and abdomen.
Given how thin she was – though she was happy, because Master always fed her when he knew she'd earned the right – the kicks hurt, as did the weight against her face, but Pet didn't dare complain.
Master had ordered her to do what he knew she was meant to do when she disappointed him at home: namely sit there, looking ugly and pathetic, while he rubbed his feet all over her and used her as just another piece of furniture.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Pet heard the clatter of her master's cutlery before Harry smiled, "All right, I'm finished; and you've been so good, Pet, that I've changed my mind. Come up here and lick my plate clean."
Letting out a gasp of delight, Pet moved from her spot at Master's feet, before she took his plate in her teeth and, lowering it onto the floor, she began licking and slurping at the dregs. As she did so, however, Pet heard her master move from his seat, but only so he could retrieve the letter he'd taken from her.
Eyeing it, Harry hummed once before he whispered, "So, you're finally ready to remember where your betters live, are you? Good."
For several minutes, Pet cleaned her master's plate and did nothing else, while Harry opened the letter, reading through the information that was enclosed there before Pet heard a low, scribbling noise, indicating that her master was writing, most-likely responding to whoever he had decided was worthy of his attention.
"There…finished…now, Pet; stay."
Pet obeyed, while Harry moved from his table, leaving the front door where, as he'd half-expected, he found an owl perched on the fence outside his home; handing the bird the letter he'd just written, Harry smiled softly as he petted the bird.
"Such a waste of beauty; listen, when you return this to your master, can you be a good girl for me and shit all over them?"
Not to his surprise, Harry saw the owl spread its wings before she bowed, before taking off for whoever had sent him the letter.
Once the owl was out of sight, Harry smiled softly before, turning away from the street, he drew in a breath as he asked, "Are you there?"
'Always,' replied Chaos, a note of humour in his words as he added, 'Mind you, I wish I could travel the world freely out of my celestial form, because I'd pay a God's ransom to get a snapshot of either Albus or Minerva covered in owl shit.'
"Or him," argued Harry, earning a laugh from his divine Father.
'Oh, I'd DEFINITELY pay that amount, ten times over, to get that photo…which reminds me, speaking of snivelling wretches, what are you planning to do with your loyal pet while you're maxing and relaxing at the supposedly-best school in Creation?'
"I could always just kill her."
'Now Harry,' argued Chaos, a note of amusement lacing his words as he asked, 'What is it I have tried to teach you? Death should be a release…'
"Not a punishment," finished Harry, nodding once as he snorted, "You're right, Dad; she hasn't yet earned the right to be released from her service to me. After all, I was their bitch for seven years; she's only been mine for less than three…so, she's still got four years left to suffer."
'Only four?'
"Well…" sneered Harry, even as he strode back into the house.
"Only four that she's earned as punishment…any more time she tallies up is just gravy."
God
"Albus! Albus, for Merlin's sake, open this damn gargoyle now!"
When Albus Dumbledore heard his deputy call out, he was, understandably, surprised, if not confused by her desperate cries; however, as he used his magic to open the stairway to his office, opening the door at the same time, the old man let out a momentary gasp when, as his door opened, what could only be described as a small peck of owls suddenly flew into the office.
Even as Minerva followed them, Albus was confused, if not shocked to see her almost-covered in the leavings of what he could only guess were the owls whom were flying around his office. Before he had a chance to question her, however, Dumbledore let out a cry of his own when what could only be described as a blizzard of bird faeces suddenly rained down all over his favourite forget-me-not-blue robes, running into his long, white beard and even smearing the view of his twinkling blue eyes through his half-moon spectacles.
God
As Albus ducked from the onslaught, he didn't notice a ghostly shadow move through his office, before said shadow retrieved a wand that was lying on Dumbledore's desk, though not before leaving what could only be described as a very convincing duplicate of the aforementioned wand in its place. Seconds later, the shadow opened a hidden cache in the old man's office, where it proceeded to retrieve a long, silvery fabric, which, along with the wand, the shadow made certain to pull both objects into itself before vanishing back into the ether from whence it came.
The only witness to the shadow's arrival and departure were Fawkes the Phoenix, who cooed with interest, if not amusement, and the Sorting Hat, who hummed thoughtfully before he spoke to the retreating shadow.
"What are you up to, Mother?"
'Soon, my son, you shall know…and when you do…I shall hope to count on your loyalties…'
The Sorting Hat just tipped himself in response, before he became still and silent as he watched the chaos unfold.
God
As for the owls, they seemed content with the whiteout they'd dished out on Dumbledore's office, as well as the Headmaster and his Deputy; this was the cue for the peck to fly off back the way they came, some of them hooting in an almost-aggressive manner as they disappeared.
As for Dumbledore and McGonagall, they dared to lift their heads over the desk, only to find the whole office as shit-covered as the two of them; when Dumbledore retrieved his wand from his desk, he cleaned the crap away with a few deft strokes, though not before he felt a glimmer of curiosity pass over him as, for a brief moment, he thought he felt a spark of resistance from the Elder Wand.
This, of course, was impossible.
He'd bested Gellert and claimed the wand, becoming the most-powerful sorcerer on the planet.
There was no reason, nor right, for the wand to resist its master's hold.
Even so, Dumbledore couldn't help but flinch and scowl as he asked, "Minerva, what…what in Merlin's name just happened? I know owls can be messy sometimes, but…how many were there?"
"I'd wager every owl in Hogwarts," said McGonagall, brushing stray feathers from her robes, before she handed a letter to Albus as she added, "And every one of them seemed to coincide with the return of this letter. I think you should take a look at it, Albus: it's from Mr Potter."
"Harry?"
Suddenly, any thoughts of dealing with shooting the messengers were cast aside as Albus grabbed the letter, holding it up as he was both surprised and excited by the arrival of the only student he was really interested in for the coming year. After all, he'd spent ten years making sure Harry was kept out of the way, beaten down and weakened, in terms of mind, body, spirit and, of course, magic, so that he would be ready, willing and able to make the ultimate sacrifice when the time demanded it.
For the Greater Good, of course.
As he looked at the letter, however, Dumbledore was a little surprised, if not confused by what he read;
Hello, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore
Sorry, I know I should probably call you Professor, but, for the next couple of months, I'm still not your student and you're definitely not my teacher, so I have no reason to be so formal with you.
How've you been keeping?
Me?
I'm just Jim, crap and dandy; happy as Larry and as giddy as a schoolboy about starting at my new school.
Do you know what?
It's going to be such fun following in my parents' footsteps.
Took you long enough, though.
Can't wait to make my big comeback: hope the rest of the world is ready to greet their hero.
Until then, best wishes and all that jazz.
Mine and mine alone, sincerely,
Harry James Potter
PS: There's no need to send anyone out to greet me or show me around the town; that's the fun of having a family member who grew up with such an amazingly-talented witch like my Mother, may she rest in peace.
So, if you ask me, you've got no reason to come a-knocking.
"He knows about his magic?"
"So, it would seem," replied Minerva, a mixture of surprise and curiosity on her face as she looked from the letter to her superior. "It looks like I owe you an apology, Albus; it seems those Muggles really were the best thing for him, growing up away from all this, until he was ready."
Dumbledore didn't know whether to be smug about her confession about him being right.
Or concerned that his decade of planning seemed to have hit a bump in the road.
God
I think you're going to need this.
Happy birthday.
A friend.
"Curiouser and curiouser," muttered Harry, looking at the finely-wrapped parcel that had been delivered straight to his bed on the morning of his eleventh birthday. The note with it was just as cryptic as the fact that somebody had managed to deliver such an unusual-looking item to him without waking him or alerting him to their presence.
As Harry eyed the parcel, he hummed softly as he peeled open the wrappings; to his surprise, he found a beautiful-looking, silvery fabric that seemed to be long enough to cover his whole body and then some.
However, it was the second item that really surprised him.
A wand.
And not just any wand: Harry could tell that much, just by looking at it.
The power he could feel radiating off of it was unlike anything he'd felt in his short, but well-stocked life.
Taking hold of the wand, Harry felt a great, powerful gust of wind billowing around him, making his green eyes flash divine-gold while, at the same time, the dark god felt his whole body sing with power, which he could have almost compared to the sacred power inside of him. As he felt this power overwhelming him, Harry felt a chuckle rise up in his throat, but, by the time it reached his lips, the chuckle had become a full-blown belly laugh, which echoed through the house with an almost-maniacal air to it.
"Whoever you are," whispered Harry, licking his lips in an excited manner, "Thank you…"
God
'I know you're there…'
Within the seemingly-endless dominion of the Great One himself, a lone shadow sighed audibly before they revealed themselves, looking right into the heart of the abyss with a mixture of amusement and satisfaction as they asked, "How long have you known?"
'Ever since you encouraged your child to keep his peace.'
"Not that he has much choice," argued the newcomer, their voice soft, but eerie, even as they went on. "The rules set down by those who helped me bind him in his bonds of silk and satin make certain he can't speak a word against those whom I nominate…such as your son, Lord Chaos."
'Why have you done this?'
"Because I'm intrigued," replied the figure, a note of humour in their words as they laughed, "And because, thanks to what I know you did for him when he was but a baby, as well as what accepting you and embracing his true calling as he did has done for him as a child, I also know a certain someone who is seriously going to be pissed off when he realises the laws of a petulant child with inferiority issues as old as Time itself don't apply to the most-powerful one of them…namely because he isn't one of them."
'So?'
"So," said the figure, shrugging ruefully before they added, "Maybe I want to help him cheat those rules and screw with old Bolt Boy's mind a little bit more…and what better way to do that than by giving him the keys to the kingdom?"
'He still has free will.'
"And I respect that."
'If you want him to accept you, it has to be his choice, especially if it is the way I suspect.'
"I know."
'And you're prepared to play the long game?'
"He is," said the figure, again shrugging before they let out a sigh as they admitted, "Besides, come on, Lord Chaos; even the spirit of the mortal you used to be would admit that your little godling has become a real heartthrob…just imagine what he'll be like in a couple of years' time. And, if he does decide to let me give him everything that my kingdom has to offer, including me, then…well, like you said, that's his choice."
'And in the meantime?'
"I go get a little payback on the Goths who bastardised and pillaged the Great and Holy Empire I worked so hard to bequeath to the humans."
For a long moment, Chaos seemed to go quiet before he chuckled softly.
'In that case, I suppose the only thing I can do is wish you luck…Hecate!'
"Oh, my Lord, it might not be a good idea to call me that for a while," argued the spirit of the ancient Mother of Magic, a note of humour in her words that even Chaos' divine self found amusing to consider what she was going to do with the magicals, especially at the side of his son.
'Then what do you want to be called?'
"You'll find out soon enough," sniggered Hecate, her body glowing with divine magic as she looked again at the heart of the abyss.
"In the meantime, I suppose I should make myself more appropriate for getting to know the future King of the Worlds."
Chapter 4 and it looks like Harry might have more than just luck on his side: he now has a weapon worthy of a God and, apparently, he's going to have the aid of one too, but will he allow it when he meets said God/Goddess?
Also, with the dominoes falling in Harry's favour, how will he deal with the fact that a lot of the magical idiots already worship him, but not for the reason he would prefer them to?
Keep Reading to Find Out
Next Chapter: Harry Potter is off to Hogwarts, where he has some interesting encounters, some fun with insects and a very surprising meeting, which leads him down the path to rule that is his and his alone…
Please Read and Review
AN: Portrayal
Hecate: Cara Delevingne