Harry Potter: The Unforgivable Lord: 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: Unforgivable Power Response: It was just a tragic accident, but, as with Accidental Magic, some accidents end up making everything so much better, especially when you've nothing left to lose. "Don't be afraid…be terrified!"
Challenge Information: DZ2's 'Unforgivable Power' Challenge: The Imperius: the power to control others. The Cruciatus: the power to inflict pain. The Avada Kedavra: the power to destroy completely, right down to the soul. As spells, they're bad enough, but imagine if that power became so natural, it didn't need invocations or flashes of light...oh...crap!
Rules: Dark or Evil Harry
Powerful Harry or stronger
When the story starts is up to you
At some point in the first chapter/s, Harry MUST discover the ability to use the power of one or more of the Big Three without a wand/invocation
Who he uses them on and for what purpose/how long is up to you
If his victim lives, they MUST report him for using an Unforgivable, which sees Harry arrested and sent to Azkaban
If his victim dies, there MUST be a witness who does the above, again resulting in sending Harry to Azkaban
At least one year must pass before Harry breaks out, somehow using his new gift/power to aid him, but now, he's darker, broken and as unforgiving as the curses are unforgivable
All pairings are welcome
Guidelines: Crossovers
Super/OP Harry
Dark-Lord Harry
Lord-Azkaban/Dementor-Lord Harry
Snapped/Insane Harry
Harry can use the power of all three Unforgivables
As well as the Unforgivables, Harry can use the power of other Dark Magical Spells/Powers naturally
Tom breaks Harry out of Azkaban and offers him a place at his side
Sirius sides with Harry
Bellatrix sides with Harry
The Dementors fear/respect/worship Harry for his power
Slash
Harems
Harry/Multi
A prophecy speaks of Harry's new power
There are/were others who could use the power of the Unforgivables as easily/naturally as Harry can
The Dementors manage to Kiss Harry before he manages to escape, resulting in a Soulless/Inhuman Harry going on a rampage
Forbidden: Light or Grey Harry
Weak Harry
Harry fearing his power
Harry needing an invocation or magical flashes to use the Unforgivables
Harry NOT being sent to Azkaban when he's found out
Harry forgiving ANYONE responsible for his incarceration
Anyone convincing Harry to forgive and forget
Other than that, it's up to you
Author's Note: So, as you may know/notice, this is a redo of an old, VERY Dark-natured idea that just refused to die – seems to be a theme with my work lately, don't it?
Anyway, hope you all enjoy it as much the second time around and, as always…well, you know what I always say:
If you don't like it, don't read it.
Recommended Reads: Path to Power by sirius009, Kill me if you can by PercyPendragon3, Dakaath: Prince of Darkness by LT2000, Harry's Madness by SilverLocke980, Dark Rage by YamiPaladinofChaos, Janus, Haemophilia (based on It's in the Blood by sakurademonalchemist) and Yield to the Darkness by Quatermass, A Cleansing Touch by Sin Maxwell and Co, Do Not Meddle In The Affairs Of Wizards by Corwalch, Harry Potter & the Imprisonment by Nightcat444, Lord Thanatos by Scarlette-Moon-Howl, Earl of the North by Lord Silvere, Damaged Raven and Dark Lord Potter by JustBored21, 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 Dark Prince Rises by Ronin2106
Key Pairing: Harry/Bellatrix
Other Pairings: To be determined
Normal Speech
'Thoughts'
'Mental Speech'
/Parseltongue/
Chapter 1: Damnatio Memoriae
"Harry Potter? Harry Potter? HARRY POTTER!"
They say bad things come in threes?
For Harry, this was, quite-possibly, the truest thing he had ever heard in his life; bad things did tend to come in threes where he was concerned.
Unforgivable
First, Voldemort murders his Father, then his Mother, then tries to murder him, but fails…
Sounds good, right?
WRONG!
The bad thing that came of that was a life where Harry would never know a Mother's love, a Father's support or anything that might be called family.
Oh, and then there was the whole famous Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived, Saviour of Magical Britain thing too, not that Harry had much of a chance to know anything about that.
No, instead, he was put through another series of examples that bad thing came in threes, otherwise known as Vernon, Petunia and Dudley Dursley, all of whom made it their lives' ambitions to make him feel like he was worthless, pathetic, freakishly-abnormal and unwanted to the point of being better off dead. Then, on top of that, the Three Stooges' ugly-siblings made it another of their lives' ambitions to make Harry think and feel the worst about his family, while, at the same time, lying to him, neglecting him, abusing him and doing what they could to leave him as nothing more than a brittle, broken shell of his former self.
Then, when the truth did come out, the bad things seemed to come in threes once again!
Whether it was three Houses thinking him a monster and murderer of Muggle-borns.
Or three years' worth of hell and life-or-death scenarios.
Or just the fact that, of the three famous members of Hogwarts' so-called Golden Trio!
Whatever form it took, Harry always seemed to be the one who had to play peacekeeper, intermediary and decider of some of the most-pathetic, ignorant and unnecessary arguments on Planet Earth.
However, in his fourth year, the bad thing that came in threes was, without a shadow of a doubt, the worst that Harry could have imagined.
And yet, by the time all was said and done, the Boy-Who-Lived would also find himself arguing that it was the best thing that could have happened to him as well.
Especially when the bad thing resulted in the death of the Boy-Who-Lived, once and for all…
Unforgivable
"How did you do it?"
"I didn't," said Harry dismissively, having already decided by the time he managed to finally return to Gryffindor Tower that he'd already had more than enough of people asking him that question. He could still feel Dumbledore's lemon-scented breath and surprisingly-strong, iron-hard grip on him while he also had Moody, Crouch and even Madame Maxime's arguments echoing over and over in his head like a stuck CD on repeat.
Unforgivable
And all thanks to the Goblet of Fire, which had brought about the latest in a now-four-year-long streak where some insane quest had now begun.
The endgame?
To make Harry a pariah again at Hogwarts, while there was another brand-spanking-new life-or-death scenario that, for whatever reason, Fate decided that Harry had to be her bitch and be involved all over again. And now, for the fourth year running, his life had, once again, taken a turn for the worse, now that he'd been named a Champion.
A fact that even the stupidest of stupid people in Creation should have been able to realise should be impossible, given he was underage, there were already three Champions in the Tournament and that Harry had absolutely-zero-percent interest or ambitions to be a part of the Tournament even if he could have entered.
However, while the world's stupidest people would have probably gotten the hint, eventually, Harry had the misfortune of being in the company of a certain stupid person who thought with his fists, his ego, his pride and, more-often than not, his stomach.
Alias Ronald Weasley.
Unforgivable
"Never mind!" scoffed the redhead, earning a shocked look from Harry at how quickly, if not self-determinedly his best mate sounded about the idea that he himself had managed to come up with, "It doesn't matter. I just figured you might have let your best friend know!"
"Let you know what?" asked Harry, unintentionally emphasising the last word with a hiss of rage as he confronted one of a small handful of people whom he would have thought would know him well enough to believe in him.
In this idiot's case, this was especially true since he'd been standing right next to Harry when they'd both talked about being in the Tournament and Harry had openly admitted better you than me, indicating that he'd had more than enough of life-threatening situations to last him the rest of his life.
However, to Harry's disbelief, Ron only seemed to follow one train of thought: namely his own. "You know bloody well what!"
"I didn't ask for any of this to happen, Ron!" insisted Harry, earning a scoff from the redhead, while Harry continued, "Both you and Hermione knew I wanted absolutely nothing to do with the Triwizard Tournament. I don't want eternal glory; it's bad enough having to be famous for something else I didn't ask to happen."
"Yeah, but you're the Boy-Who-Lived and you get everything, don't you?"
Clenching his fists, as though trying to fight the urge to either curse or just plain thump Ron for being so stupid, Harry was the one who scoffed next as he looked to the other fourth-year boys. However, to his disbelief, all of them were looking at him in pretty much the same way that most of the school had looked at him two years ago.
Like he was a monster!
Honestly, how clueless could you get?
"I never chose to be that!" insisted Harry, looking back to Ron as he argued, "Just like I never chose to be anything that I've had to become since discovering I was a wizard…okay? You're just being stupid!"
"Yeah, that's me, isn't it?" asked Ron, his moaning and his self-deluded attitude making Harry suddenly imagine how the redhead would look with a couple of hundred pounds' worth of fat on him and a Mother who babied him and called him stupid nicknames that were just plain embarrassing…
'Oh wait,' thought Harry, snorting to himself as he mused, 'He does have a Mother like that: Mrs Weasley, the human Bearhug Machine!'
"Something funny, you lying freak?"
And, just like that, Harry's moment of humour vanished, not just because of the fact that the redhead had noticed him having a private moment, but also because of the fact that he had used a word that even the most-braindead Hogwarts student could tell you was a HUGE no-no for Harry Potter.
But, again, Ronald was the one proving that he was stupider than stupid could go.
And, worse, Harry wasn't backing down, "Take that back."
"What?" asked Ron, scrambling free of his bedding before he squared up to Harry as he insisted, "Calling you what you are? Well how about liar, cheat, thief, glory hound and maybe even traitor? How does that suit you? What are you going to do, Potter? Cry?"
"You really should stop, Ron…"
The sound of flesh striking flesh cut off Harry's tirade, and, at the same time, it was an attack that changed everything in Gryffindor, courtesy of the redheaded moron with less brains than a dead goldfish crossed with a squished slug.
"I knew you were bluffing, you freak!" sneered Ron, before he pushed more than a little bit too far with his next words as, putting on a mocking air, he turned his back on Harry as he continued crowing like the Gryffindor equivalent of Malfoy. "Oh, look at me, I'm famous Harry Potter; the guy who needs the glory because it's all I have. Face it, Harry, without that stupid scar, your title and your dead parents, what are…AAAAAHHHHHH!"
Suddenly, the mocking, self-satisfying arguments of the one-track-minded Mo-Ron transformed into a wave of nerve-shattering screams that filled Gryffindor Tower, accompanied by a loud, disbelievingly-horrific snapping sound that seemed to emanate from Ron's body as he fell to the ground.
As Neville, Dean and Seamus looked to the two former friends in disbelief and alarm, Neville's eyes widened with no small amount of abject horror when he recognised the seizure-like-flailing, as well as the scream-infested, madly-thrashing torture being experienced by Ron for what they were.
"He…he's using the…the…the Cruciatus Curse!"
"NO!" Screamed Ron, his eyes leaking blood while a fairly-sizable stain formed on his trousers as he cried, "MAKE IT STOP! PLEASE, HARRY! I'M SORRY! PLEASE! STOP! YOU…YOU'RE TEARING ME APART! I CAN'T…I CAN'T…I WON'T…I…I…I…"
"PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!"
Harry didn't see the spell coming, but even as his body froze up, he certainly felt it, not to mention the ground rushing up to meet him as he looked into the eyes of his attacker.
Neville Longbottom, his wand tip smoking while his face was pale and terrified, with sweat rolling down him as he gasped, "G-G-G-Get…someone get P-P-P-P-Professor Dumbledore…now!"
As for Harry, the only thing any of the other Gryffindors could focus on were the eyes of the so-called second Hogwarts Champion.
Eyes that were redder than blood, and filled with more intense light than a thousand fires….
Unforgivable
2 Hours Later
As the memory of the attack faded away from the Pensieve memory view that was being shown to the members of the Court, a still blood-red-eyed Harry James Potter looked up with a mixture of bewilderment and curiosity, as well as interest and a smirk that could only be described as amused, if not intrigued, as he heard the voice of the Ministry's prosecutor address the chamber.
"The evidence stands: through unknown means, and with intent to permanently disfigure and torment not only a pure-blood child, but the son of a family that, while not in the best of lights in many of our eyes, is still an ancient and noble household. Furthermore, testimonies from the witness, Mr Neville Longbottom, and with verification from Dowager Augusta Longbottom, Director Amelia Bones and Hogwarts' resident Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House, Severus Snape, as well as Headmaster Dumbledore himself, all agree that the accused used a non-verbal, wandless, but definitely successful Cruciatus Curse on his victim, Ronald Weasley, without mercy or fear of reprisal."
As he heard this insect rattle off the list of crimes and name everyone who would soon find themselves in his crosshairs, Harry felt like he should speak out, try to claim innocence or even an accident.
However, as he listened, he found his own voice whispering in his ear, 'Wait a moment. Why should you be sorry, Harry? He betrayed you, after all; he called himself your friend, but then proved his true colours when you were well on your way to greatness. Why should you be even a little bit sorry about anything, other than the idea that you should have done it sooner?'
Before he could stop himself, Harry felt a shark-like smile cross his face, even as he heard the bang of the gavel in front of him, accompanied by the voice of the Minister, "Does the accused have any last words before sentence is carried out?"
"Only this," said Harry, his voice colder than cold and darker than dark as he looked up at the Minister, flicking his tongue like a snake, the sight of which made a couple of spectators even more nervous.
At the sight of Harry's red eyes, Fudge flinched in fear and alarm while several others shrank back in their seats.
To Harry's amusement, even Lucius Malfoy looked like he was going to shit himself stupid, even as Harry craned his neck, making him look beyond deranged and dangerous to boot, as he addressed the Wizengamot.
"For what was supposed to be four years, I've walked around Hogwarts, wagging my tail and barking on command, doing everything in my power to be the loving, trusting, oh-so-good-boy heroic kid you thought I was. And, without ever asking for a thing, I've played my role of being the good boy who risked everything time and time again, just so ignorant, biased, one-track-minded fuckwits like you can live free and be happy."
As more than a few members of the Wizengamot looked more than offended at Harry's words, the young boy let out a cold, maniacal laugh that seemed to reverberate off of the walls around him as he scoffed before he asked in a mocking tone.
"And now, just because you've seen evidence of power that, for all you know, might have even been the exact reason that you simpering worms were spared Voldemort's fire all those years ago, you ask me: do I have any last words? Well, how about these? As is a matter of public bias, bigotry and record, the Dark Lord Voldemort himself cast the supposedly-unsurvivable Killing Curse at me and yet, guess what? That's right, little kiddies: I survived!"
A truly-crazed glint seemed to burn in Harry's red eyes as he sniggered crazily before he flicked his tongue like a snake as he went on, "Then, two years gone now, he set a Basilisk on me, injecting its supposedly-instantly-fatal venom into me, from a serpent that's been around since Salazar's time, and I not only survived. I reminded that lovely earthworm what a real Apex Predator looks like! Oh, and then we come to what I consider my personal favourite, Cornelia…the one where, at your insistence, you corrupt little twat with a name of something only good for eating!"
While Fudge's face went whiter than white at the monstrous insinuation aimed at him, the rest of the Wizengamot could only listen, each one of them almost glued to their seats in terror as Harry laughed maniacally again, the sound setting each and every one of their teeth, nerves and even the blood in their veins on edge before he indicated the Minister.
"As I was saying, on your orders, a fully-occupied horde of soul-eating, fear-inducing, nightmare-triggering Dementors were sent to Hogwarts, where they decided that, of all the lights in the building, including dunces like Weasel and Mr Ferret, aka Lucy's wickle-baby-boy, Draco…"
Lucius' eyes widened in rage and terror as Harry continued, heedless of the blond's thoughts or feelings.
"Instead, they instantly decided that my soul looked nice and tasty, but, when they decided to crash my party and have a late-night snack on little old me, I not only survived, I also managed to send those cloaked fuckers fleeing with their tails between their legs…hmm…do Dementors have tails? What about Dicks? Pussies? I mean, how do you tell one from another? Ah well…whatevs; my point is this: do whatever you think you can to me…it won't matter…and I'll tell you for why!"
Then, to the alarm of the Wizengamot members, the chains holding Harry to his seat suddenly snapped clean off, while Harry's red eyes shone even brighter, making it look like his eyes were actually burning in his face. As the chains fell to his sides with an audible, terrifying-sounding clatter, Harry rose up before, adopting a cold, evil, malefic tone of voice, he addressed the Minister and his toads and sheep once more, speaking in a cold, evil, if not overly-dramatic, and terrifying, stage-whisper-like tone.
"Tell me, Minister of Morons: did you hear the one…about the man who can never be destroyed? He was strangled…He was thrown away…He was locked behind bars…He was impaled and slashed by a living tree…He was poisoned by the beast of Slytherin himself…He was hunted by soul-sucking demons who saw him as an all-they-can-eat buffet…He was hunted by werewolves and acromantulas…He was targeted by the Avada Kedavra itself…but he keeps…coming…BACK!"
While one of the nearby Aurors drew their wand, albeit shakily, as though they couldn't believe what they were seeing and hearing from this young man whom, as far as anyone else knew, was not only clueless, but naïve and a loser and freak to the masses, Harry's smile became something that could have made the Cheshire Cat and the Grinch jealous as he went on;
"Don't be afraid…be TERRIFIED!"
Red flashes attacked Harry from all sides, but even as he was knocked down by the jinxes, his maniacal laughter still managed to echo through the Wizengamot Chambers, leaving every single member of the courtroom wishing they could forget any of that.
But none of them ever would!
Unforgivable
BOY-WHO-LIVED SHOWS HIS TRUE COLOURS
Saviour comes out as the next Dark Lord following unprovoked Unforgivable attack on his peers
By Rita Skeeter
Yes, it's true, dear readers; a dark day, for sure, but following the evidence of his willing placement into the legendary, dangerous, nation-honouring event known as the Triwizard Tournament under a fictitious fourth school, The Boy-Who-Fell – as he will now be known – is revealed to be a bona fide Dark Lord, who seeks to end all life as we know it and threaten the sanctity of all that is good and pure in this world.
Fortunately, we at the Prophet ask that you do not panic: thanks to a joint effort between the Ministry of Magic, as well as Headmaster Dumbledore, the Powers That Be have acted swiftly and with proper caution to ensure this Dark Lord does not rise to power.
He will now serve life in the deepest, darkest, most-inescapable corner of Azkaban, in a cell so dark, it will never come to light. Furthermore, to ensure that his collaborator, Sirius Black, does not have a chance to make history repeat itself, the Boy-Who-Fell has had his memory of all paths and corridors in Azkaban wiped and confounded, so he cannot trick the Ministry a second time.
But the punishment for his terrible crimes do not stop there.
In a stunning move that has never been seen in the country since the Ministry's inception, our saviour, Minister Cornelius Fudge has taken a move he claims is inspired by an old Muggle ruling – though, let's be honest, dear readers; since when do Muggles do anything clever? Ergo, this was all the Minister's brain-child, but…anyway…
As a result of the quick thinking of our brave and noble leader, it is now illegal, on pain of a fine that can cripple even the wealthiest family, if not far worse punishments in the case of continued breaches of this law, to speak the name of the condemned, be it in text, thought or even in passing.
This method, known as Damnatio Memoriae is to preserve the memories of those shunned and neglected by the Boy-Who-Fell.
A generous compensation package of one million Galleons has also been paid out to the victim and his family for their part in capturing and helping put this Dark Lord to rest while the rest of his assets and fortunes have, regrettably, been claimed and seized by Gringotts Bank, who have assured the Ministry and our raving readers that they will see justice done.
As for The Boy Who Fell, we hope he burns in hell and, at the risk of sounding unprofessional, we hope his parents are waiting in the next life to try and grant him the means to experience fates worse than death even after death.
And so, a world mourns its fallen saviour and wonders one thing I am sure even Albus Dumbledore himself wonders;
How did we not see it sooner?
For an in-depth interview with victims of You-Know-Who, see page 3
For further details on You-Know-Who and his fall from grace, see page 4
Unforgivable
What day was it?
What time was it?
What now?
All these were questions that ran through the now-dubbed Fallen One's mind as he sat alone in the darkest, deepest cell in Azkaban Prison, idly toying with the skull of a rat he'd found not too long ago.
On the one hand, the rat had made a remarkably-tasty reprieve from whatever slop was shoved into his face whenever the beyond-terrified guards came and went as quickly as demons fleeing a holy man; he had even used its blood to write a list of now-dried-and-crusted-over names on the wall of his cell, each one indicating the name of the ones who would suffer, most to least, when he finally managed to get out of this place.
By chance – though he secretly suspected it was a mocking move on Fudge's part, or someone with a similar train of thought – he had even seen Skeeter's ass-kissing, head-stuck-in-Fudge's-colon-level scathing report on his brand-new identity and, to be honest, the sight of just how fickle and pig-ignorant the insects really were only amused the Fallen One, hence why even he was proud to call and recognise himself as The Fallen One.
Thanks to a stream of constant exposure to the Dementors, as well as pitch-dark isolation in a place that never saw sunlight, and being left with naught but several rather-pleasurable thoughts of death, as well as dreams of how he might exact vengeance and the idea that he was going to enjoy getting back at his enemies when he got the chance; all these things had all given the Fallen a sense of clarity.
Not to mention pleasure that left other kinds of dried, crusty stains on the floors, walls and even the cot in his pitch-black cell.
Anyway, the point still stood that, in time, the Fallen came to a decision, if not an epiphany.
He wasn't Harry James Potter…not anymore.
Harry James Potter had been a worthless, weak and pathetic little boy who'd let everyone and their lame, rabies-infested dog walk all over him.
As he'd said in the Wizengamot, The Fallen One had wagged his tail and barked on command for long enough now, having spent four long, dreary years, and even longer-still, pandering to the crowds because they thought him as their saviour and made him fool himself into thinking he was in any way, shape or form, special.
But that was as big a lie as this bullshit about him no longer having the right to a name, let alone an identity.
He wasn't special…
He was better!
He was stronger!
And, as weird as it was for him to admit it, the Fallen actually realised he had his victim to thank for helping him realise it.
After all, he'd tapped into the orgasmic throes of power that came from the use of an Unforgivable Curse, and he'd done so wandlessly, wordlessly and drawing out every fibre of his rage and determination to punish his enemies, thanks to that loud-mouthed insect crowing like a rooster, showing his true colours in the process.
All right, so it wasn't quite the Michael to the Fallen's Lucifer, but the similarities were there.
Thanks to Ronald Weasley – who, in the Fallen One's mind, became numero uno and earned himself the title Dead Man Walking as the days ticked by – the Fallen had found his true power, discovered his inner strength and shown the world what he could really do.
And when that happened, Harry James Potter – that weak, pathetic mongrel mutt of a half-blood who wouldn't even raise his wand to a pathetic, mewling quim of a Daddy's Boy rival, much less a powerful force capable of Merlin-knows-what without Dumbledore's say-so – that boy had died!
And, as he died, the Fallen had been born.
So, fine, let them take away his name, his identity and his right to be that meek, naïve, pathetic little runt, Harry Potter.
Like a phoenix, he would rise from the ashes soon enough.
Then, the entire world would know the Revenge of the Fallen!
As he thought on his plans for the future, wondering when and how he might find the strength to execute them, the Fallen felt the air in his cell freeze, accompanied by a familiar nauseating dread and darkness that crept into his mind and started to drill its way into his soul.
And yet, he did not fear the darkness.
Instead, he sighed with boredom before he drawled, "Here we go again."
Closing his eyes, the Fallen allowed himself to retreat in the only way he knew how;
The List.
'Ronald Weasley…Albus Dumbledore…Cornelius Fudge…Severus Snape…Dolores Umbridge – whose name Harry knew because she'd been the one to send him down, which put her on the list, not to mention her disgustingly-horrible dress sense, and the clearing of the throat noise that the Fallen remembered – Neville Longbottom…Augusta Longbottom…Alice Longbottom…Frank Longbottom…Molly Weasley…Ginny Weasley…Arthur Weasley…Percy Weasley…Fred Weasley…George Weasley…Bill Weasley…Charlie Weasley…Seamus Finnegan…Dean Thomas…Hermione Granger…Minerva McGonagall…Rita Skeeter…Vernon Dursley…Petunia Dursley…Dudley Dursley…Large Marge, the Alcohol Barge…Ronald Weasley, Albus Dumbledore, Cornelius Fudge, Severus Snape, Dolores Umbridge…'
Weirdly, as he repeated the list over and over again, the Fallen's mind was so focused on his victims' list that he didn't even notice something that his weaker self would have deemed bleeding obvious.
Not once was there even a mention of putting Tom Marvolo Riddle, alias the Dark Lord Voldemort, on that list.
Yikes, talk about a terrifying start and it looks like HJP is well and truly gone, but now, his body has become the vessel of a Spirit of Vengeance with a hunger that refuses to be sated by mere snacks: will the Fallen be able to rise like he claims and wreak a terrible vengeance on the world?
Also, why wouldn't old Snake Face be on the list and, now I think about it, what's going to happen to the Fallen on the day of the First Task? After all, if he isn't in the Tasks, won't that mean he loses perhaps the only weapon he has left?
Keep Reading to Find Out
Next Chapter: The day of the First Task brings anticipation at Hogwarts, but deep within the bowels of Azkaban, it brings war to the Fallen…a war he is going to win! After all, the AK, Basilisk Venom and Soul Eaters couldn't kill him, so a fluke of a fiery piece of crockery isn't going to do it either…right?
Please Read and Review
AN: The List
So, I hope you liked this little add-on at the end; admittedly, it was partially inspired by the list of names in Arrow and, partially, by Game of Thrones, but with a much-darker twist on it that will make the future rather interesting, wouldn't you agree?
Also, 'The Fallen One's' new status as not even being able to be allowed a name was inspired by the ancient tale of the Greek betrayer Herostratus; why'd I do that? I don't know; inspiration's a weird thing, isn't it?
Finally, 'The Fallen's' last words to the Ministry were inspired by a ghostly speech I once remembered identifying the return of my favourite WWE Superstar, The Undertaker: chilling, yes, but something that really set the scene too.
