AN: Hey there everyone! I am totally new at harry potter fanfics and this is my first Harry Potter Fic ever and I'd really like to know how it is~! All flames will be put out with a fire extinguisher and much water. Constructive criticism however, will be mentally noted down and used in all the many ways of improving this fanfic.
Disclaimer: Draco Malfoy is mi- I mean, Harry Potter does not belong to me and will never be. Ok?
-The Boy who Turned-
His sinister dark shadow spread out behind him, casting the town into further darkness. The path to his target's home seemed to clear, as if to make way for a king.
All he left behind him was a trail of destruction. A quiet smirk crept along his lips. This was why the path cleared for him. His wand did the trick.
Fear, it was everywhere. He could practically smell it. Why would there not be fear? Everyone was afraid, afraid of his power, his strength, him.
Where once he was respected, he was now feared. Where once he was loved and admired, he was now hated and despised. Where once he fought against evil, he now was evil. Things changed so easily.
But his reign would never change. He would forever be great and all-powerful. No, nothing would change that.
Revenge has to be. Everything had been a big lie. Everyone had lied to him. It had all been a plot. He had been toyed with, his mind was messed about with. He would make all of them pay back dearly for what they did to him.
After his revenge... well, fate would take its course.
"My lord," a figure cloaked in a dark robe came toward him.
"Malfoy," His voice sounded just the slightest bit unfamiliar. The cold, cruel and demanding tone was so different from the once warm and caring voice filled with laughter.
"The azkaban guards are rushing towards the target's home. I believe there is a spy."
Giving a curt nod, I turned to continue my walk.
"My lord, you still wish to...?"
"Don't question my intentions, Malfoy. The dementors will take care of those foolish guards. And they shall not fail." He added purposefully.
"Ye-Yes my lord, I understand."
The clouds engulfed the moon, leaving the faintest trace of light in the cold night sky. He barely made out the outline of Malfoy apparating away.
A shiver of loneliness crept up his spine. He pushed aside his thoughts and memories of the past. All that should have happened which did not would never be, what was the point of hoping?
He drew out his wand and blasted the bolted door open, the last obstacle between him and his victim.
A plump lady dressed shabbily in a white robe glared at him, with anger and fear. She was probably no taller than the table itself and her green hair flared with her eyes.
Professor Sprouts.
Another filthy liar. Another damned trickster. She had to die for that.
His eyes grew slitted and a faint smile played on his lips. Jumping all of a sudden, he leaped towards her and lunged for her throat.
She screamed hysterically and dodged with as much speed and agility as she could muster.
"Run, Professor, run for all you're worth. But you'd never get away." A slightly maniacal whisper came through. Again, he plunged towards her. Like a hunter chasing its prey, he ran wildly after Sprouts.
Soon, he began to tire of this useless game of hide-and-seek. Sprouts hid, ran, defended, attacked and was even desperate enough to try and knock down the wall, but all to no avail. His magic was strong enough to keep her in this house.
Yes, he was bored of chasing this stupid lying woman. Slowly, he raised his wand arm.
His wand glowed a deep brown. Yes, the only thing he could trust was his wand. People could change, scenarios could differ, but his wand was trustworthy and loyal, and it was his and his alone.
As if Sprouts had read his mind, she stopped in the middle of throwing a chair at him and faced him. A hint of resignation traced across her face.
And while his mouth formed the words of the deadliest curse, as if in a final desperate battle cry, she hissed the very two words he for so long wished to forget. His very name.
"Harry Potter!"
*flashback*
"Hey, Harry, wait up!"
"No, Ron, I am NOT going to help you ask Professor Sprouts to give you an A on that project."
"C'mon, I only missed an A by a few marks!"
"Like, what, 50 marks?" Hermione cut in.
"Okay, so it was an F, okay? But still, you know I can't show it to my mother! She'll kill me!"
"If you had studied, instead of playing Wizards' Chess with your brothers, you probably would've gotten a B."
"They forced me to play with them!"
"You know that's rubbish."
"Hermione Granger, you!"
"I?"
"Uh, can I borrow your project to show my mum?"
"No! That's lying, Ron Weasly!"
"C'mon don't be selfish."
"Oh shut up you two." Harry cut in. The twosome's constant bickering gave him headaches more than occasionally. "We're at the Trophy Room already. Filch'd kill us if we make a slightest noise."
"Remind me again why we're here?" Hermione snapped.
"Ron said he saw a trophy with my parents' picture on it."
"Yeah! It was friggin' cool Harry. It was engraved- engraved!- on with the name 'Potter's' on it. Filch chased me away before I could see more though."
The three looked around and after some searching, they found it.
It was a Gold Trophy, awarded annually to a pair of people for great inventions. At that time, Lily and James had come up with the Truth Potion.
Sure enough, their pictures were carved- and moving- on the plaque below the trophy and with it the names, "James Potter and Lily Evans with son Harry Potter."
*end flashback*
The name whispered so maliciously and so hatefully held a meaning behind it, as true as the name was a lie.
Harry Potter, son of James and Lily indeed.
He resisted the urge to spit on the ground.
They even lied about him as their son. Filthy, despicable, goddamned lies!
"Avada Kedavra."
He finished the curse with an angered flick of his wand and the name "Harry Potter" became the last words Sprouts would ever say.
How amusing. Harry Potter, the name which rejoiced every single person, yet now, it was the name that nearly everyone dare not speak of.
What a joke.
And finshing what he had come for, he left the house in the calmest state, with not an ounce of happiness left in him.
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
AN: So how was it? Sorry to all ye' overly-obsessed with perfect-Harry-potter fans, if I have distorted the Great Harry. Please review~!!!!
How about… at least 5 reviews for the next chapter to be posted?? I think that's reasonable ya? Coz if this fic ain't too great I'll stop posting~~ ^^;
