War, Huh? What Is It Good For? Absolutely Nothing!

Disclaimer/Plot/Challenge Information/Author's Note: SEE FIRST CHAPTER

Recommended Reads: Apex by JustBored21, Rise of the Dark Angel by mykkila09, Suns of Death and Darkness by Chakahlah, The Dark Prince: Rebirth by TheDarkLover22, Two Minds, One Wand by RobertWilsonWriting, A Flaw in Fate by 521-DREAM, Serpent's Ascending, Ruined Omega, Riddle's Obsession, Devilish Romance and The Dark Prince's Ascension and The Dark Prince's Coronation by Madriddler, Ascension by PerseusPeverell092 and Child of Azkaban by Fire and Starlight

Key Pairing: Harry/Daphne/Astoria

Other Pairings: To be determined

Normal Speech

'Thoughts'

/Parseltongue/

Review Answers:

Nida1: Thanks for pointing out that mistake: tbh, sometimes, I confess, I often misspell that writer's pen-name: ironic, really, since their story is one of, if not my absolutely-favourite Dark-Harry and Harry/Draco stories;

JustBored21: Thanks for the suggestion, old friend: I decided to emphasise on it: how? Keep reading to find out;

"Leave me out of it…because I'm done playing soldier…I'm done playing hero…I'm done…being the Boy-Who-Lived…"

As though emphasising the last part, Harry slammed the door hard, the force so strong and emphasised by emotion that it actually caused the torches in the Common Room to blow and dim with the backlash from the slamming force.

Chapter 2: Home and Away

Silence.

It was strange for him to admit, but, after four years of harrowing flights, Dementor attacks, people trying to butt in and interrupt the journey – mainly Malfoy, not that Harry cared too much – and even curious whispers, Harry admitted it regardless.

He loved being able to enjoy the peace, quiet and silence of the train ride back to King's Cross Station.

When the students had finally been let out, Harry had needed a lot of guile to successfully avoid the crowds, Ron, Hermione, Dumbledore and even Sirius, in order to find his way onto the train.

Well, anyone else would call it guile, whereas Harry called it using all the means available to him at that particular moment in time – all of which translated into his Dad's Invisibility Cloak, his wand, his knowledge of Hogwarts and even the Marauder's Map – but the point still stood that it was definitely worthy of the green-clad House's Founder.

A Locking Charm on the door to his compartment took care of anyone who wanted to bother him and, just for added emphasis, Harry even draped his Cloak over him, doing everything he could to keep hidden and keep prying eyes out.

Naturally, it didn't work.

"Alohomora."

'Of course,' thought Harry, scowling at his lack of foresight in how not everyone was as dense as one of the two intruders who now stood outside his compartment, while the other looked haughty and more than a little disbelieving as she threw the door open.

"Harry!" insisted Hermione, her voice edged by a note of self-gratifying certainty as she insisted, "I know you're in here, probably under that Cloak of yours: don't bother hiding. Remember who taught you the Summoning Charm: what? Do I need to use it to get you to reveal yourself?"

"You know," said Harry, throwing his Cloak off of his body as he looked up to the brunette and her redheaded companion, who actually looked more than a little shocked that Harry had indeed been hiding under his Cloak. "It must be so good, mustn't it? Being so much holier than the rest of the world, to the point that you believe it gives you Divine Right to do whatever the fuck you want, Granger!"

"Language!"

"English, why? What language are you speaking?" drawled Harry, earning a snort from Ron that reminded Harry of when he'd first met Malfoy back in the Entrance Hall in their first year; judging by the sudden, sharp look of rage and disgust that flashed across Hermione's face, it seemed to have had the same effect too.

"You know what I mean."

"No, I don't, and neither do I care," said Harry in a matter-of-fact voice, while he folded his Cloak up and, rising from his seat, he turned his back on Ron and Hermione as he proceeded to store it in his trunk as he explained, "In any event, I don't know or care what you two want either. In case the loud cry in Gryffindor Tower wasn't proof enough, all I want is to be left alone. So, if you're going to shriek my ears down and try to get me to wag my tail and bark on command, Granger, you can do as Ronald there told me to do nearly ten months ago and piss off!"

"But…we…we need to talk to you," argued Hermione, earning a roll of the eyes from Harry.

Seriously, he would have thought the so-called brightest witch of her age wouldn't need Vegas-esque neon signs to get the fucking hint!

Then again, she was in the company of the Gryffindor who was Crabbe and Goyle put together, with an added blend of Dudley Dursley.

Translation: The King of Idiots and Sultan of Stupid Morons – probably why his Mummy named him such, as Harry thought to himself.

"Well, I don't want to talk to you," argued Harry, closing his trunk again before he sat back down in his seat as he added, "Now, again, please, leave me alone."

"But we need to talk to you…about You-Know-Who!" exclaimed Hermione, earning a scoff from Harry.

"Why?"

"Well…isn't he…don't you think he…he's back?" asked Hermione fearfully, earning another scoff from Harry, before Hermione added, "I mean, what with Pettigrew, and Crouch, and everything that's happened, Professor Dumbledore said…"

"Oh!" gasped Harry, pouring as much sarcasm and fake surprise into his exclamation as he asked, "So Professor Dumbledore said something that means you need to talk to me, did he? Well, I never guessed that you of all people would ever kiss the feet of authority and obey like a good little dog, Granger! My, my, my; four years and you still find new ways to surprise me! I thought the Time Travelling thing from last year was as big a shock as you could give me, but this? Colour me shocked speechless!"

"Harry, be serious!"

"Can't, because he's my godfather," said Harry, dropping the sarcasm from his voice, earning another snort of amusement from Ron, while Harry looked to Hermione as he explained, "And, in case you didn't get the memo, Granger, let me say it one last time and, if I have to say it again, trust me: wands will be involved…now…"

Rising from his seat, Harry moved towards the door, causing Ron and Hermione to back away from him as they saw his eyes harden in their sockets, before the green, Avada-Kedavra-like colour in them started to glow ominously as Harry took hold of the door handle before he sneered at the two, "I'll say it slowly, so even he can understand…ready?"

"Harry, you…"

"Leave…"

"Harry, you have to help…"

"…Me…"

"Harry, why aren't you bothered he's back?"

"ALONE!"

Harry made sure to slam the door before, drawing his wand from his pocket, he tapped it on the door, as though showing Ron and Hermione that his threat to get wands involved next time wasn't a threat.

However, judging by how Hermione seemed intent on throwing the door open again, if only to launch into one of her unnecessarily-long-winded, loud and overbearing speeches, Harry guessed she wasn't getting the message. Fortunately for her and her redheaded boyfriend, Harry had more than enough experience holding a door shut against heavier, thicker and uglier looking intruders than the likes of her.

That being said, the fact that she was screaming for the whole train to hear about Voldemort, rumours of his return and that Dumbledore seemed to have something to do with the supposed rumour made Harry curious as to how or why nobody was coming to shut her up.

'Well,' thought Harry, scoffing to himself as he turned his back on the duo, keeping his hand on the door handle as he rolled his eyes.

'I did say the so-called Powers seemed to have bestowed divine right onto Granger, so they've probably been told to ignore any trouble she makes, especially since Ronald's Bighead Boy brother isn't here to strut about like the peacock he is! Ah well, if I can handle Vernon's impotent rage; I can certainly deal with this silly little girl.'

War

"He's still not opening the door?"

"What do you think?" asked Hermione hotly, her face caked with sweat from the strain of constantly trying and failing to open the door; even another Alohomora did very little, especially since Harry slammed the door closed as quickly as it opened for her.

But Hermione Granger knew she had to make Harry see sense.

After all, Dumbledore had told her to make Harry see sense, and since when was Dumbledore wrong?

She was just glad she'd had the forethought to put up the Muffilato Charm, so she could call Harry's bluff and, as it became necessary, yell at him to do as he was told and listen to her.

After all, he'd never failed to do so before, so why would now be any different?

Just because he was having a typical boy sulk, it didn't mean he didn't need her to make him see the truth.

War

'Ye Gods, she's still trying to bust in here! We're almost back to King's Cross Station for Merlin's sake! She's really starting to get on my wick, but, fine, if she can't take the hint, I guess there's only one thing I can do to make this obsessed brunette listen!'

As Harry groaned from the strain on his arms, after spending more than two-thirds of the journey trying and failing to keep Ron and Hermione away from him, he felt a growl ripple in his throat as he tightened his hold on his wand, his eyes burning with tears of rage as he saw the buildings of London pass by the window, the train now slowing down as they neared the station.

Releasing his hand from the handle, Harry turned on his heel before, throwing the door open, he snarled, "ENOUGH!"

The fact that he'd actually yelled at her seemed to cause Hermione to take a step back, her face red from the exertion, while Harry hissed in a dangerous voice, "Look, I was perfectly willing to give you the chance to take the fucking hint…no, I WON'T watch my language, you stupid bitch!"

"How…how dare…"

"How? Because I'm daring," said Harry, before he pointed his wand at Hermione as he added, "Just like I'm also at my limit with putting up with your attempts to control something you have no business getting involved in, namely my life and choices! So, once again, let me try and spell it out for you, Hermione Jean Granger…and, don't worry, I'll speak slowly!"

To Hermione's alarm, the tip of Harry's wand actually lit up with a few red sparks, while Harry hissed in a very cold voice, "You will go away, back to your prim-and-perfect Muggle home, where you will not make any attempts to contact me! No owls, no phone calls, no sudden, convenient turn-ups in Little Whinging where you claim you were in the neighbourhood. You will leave…me…alone! As for your orders from the Lord Almighty, Albus Dumbledork, I don't care what bullshit stew that senile old fool has fed you. I am done being the one that lazy, insufferable arseholes like you, your boyfriend here and your master expect to put everything on the line for! I am done letting my life be dictated by Death, Disaster and Dismally-Pathetic Twists of Fate that even someone as thick and pathetic as Dudley could figure out is impossible! But, most of all, you stupid clueless girl, I am done pandering to your ego!"

"What does that mean?" demanded Hermione, earning a scoff from Harry.

"Well, let me put it this way, Granger: do you honestly believe an insufferable copycatting child from the Muggle World would actually be able to work harder, better and smarter than someone who is the son and heir of the greatest witch since Rowena Ravenclaw herself? Or the child of the notoriously-pranking, hilariously-talented and braver-than-brave-can-be Father that I had? Do you honestly think…or were you naïve enough to believe that you were ever better than me because I was actually thick, naïve, helpless and weak?"

"Well then why…"

Even as Harry cut Hermione off before she could make any further stupid, pointless remarks, he silently apologised to the memory and spirit of the only person he'd have ever not used what he said next in the way it was intended.

But, as he'd said, Hermione had caused him to reach his limit, so it was time to go there, as the old saying went.

"I LET YOU BE BETTER, you…you…you stupid, clueless, overbearing Mudblood bitch!"

Hermione went white as a sheet.

Ron, meanwhile, turned redder than Gryffindor colours, while Harry scoffed, sneering in apparent amusement as he remarked, "Wow…do you know what? I think I finally understand why Malfoy and his ilk love using that word so much: just saying it…well, when it's not aimed at my Mum, but at someone who is not and never will be anything close to what she was, but I digress…using it…it feels really good!"

"You…you…you've gone…gone…insane!"

"Hanging around with you two? I'm surprised I haven't done it sooner," argued Harry, his eyes burning ferociously as he growled, "Now, Granger, you stupid, insufferable know-it-all: take this final chance and get the fuck out of my sight! And the next time you decide to bother somebody: how about you make absolutely certain they're not someone with the balls, and skills, to put their magic where their mouth is!"

Again, sparks flew from the tip of Harry's wand, but, this time, Ron and Hermione ran away like demons fleeing a holy man.

Although there was nothing holy about Harry.

Not anymore.

A fact that, even as he retrieved his things from the rack, he found himself smiling at the thought of what it would mean for the next target on his list.

'Time to thank you for all your love and care, Uncle…'

War

"Taxi for Potter?"

As soon as Harry mocked the fact that he'd been waiting for him, Vernon Dursley's face turned a new shade of purple, earning a scoff from Harry as he drawled, "Oh, please, Vernon: if you were actually capable of attacking me, you'd have ended my life when I was still in nappies. Now, put your face straight and, if you can manage it, stop looking like such an impotent child throwing a temper tantrum…that's your son's job, after all!"

"Why you…"

"Careful, Uncle," drawled Harry, even as Vernon went to attack him. "After all, the last time a Dursley pissed me off, it was Accidental Power that sent her soaring through the air with the ugliest of ease…and that was two years ago; trust me, I'm much stronger now! Besides, not to be overly familiar with filthy insects like you, but, the fact of the matter is, I've got a special present for you and your…family."

He actually applauded his ability to maintain a stoic front, silently thanking a certain blond for giving him the inspiration on how to speak so coldly, but with purpose and clarity.

Magic could kill, as Harry knew all too well.

But words?

Words were more-venomous than the Basilisk, Nagini, Aragog and a million-million Runespoors put together.

And, when you used the right words against your enemies, no amount of antidotes could cure them of this poison.

A fact that Harry saw proven true when, without another word, Vernon Dursley helped his nephew out to the car, leaving Harry's eyes shining again as he climbed into the passenger seat, leaving the fat freak to do all the hard work.

War

"Ah, Durzkaban…how I've missed you…"

"What…what did you just call my house, you…you freak?" asked Vernon, earning a scoff from Harry.

"Again with the freak, Vernon? Two words: Broken and Record…ah well, no matter…excuse me…"

Ignoring his Uncle's purple-faced look, as well as the fact that Vernon clearly expected him to carry the trunk, Hedwig's cage and Harry's other possessions inside without help, the emerald-eyed scion walked right up to the front door of Number Four, Privet Drive, opening it wide before he stepped aside as he turned his eyes to the skies. "Front door's open…come on in…"

"Who are you…"

Before Vernon could finish, his eyes widened in horror before, a few seconds later, what could only be described as black smoke enveloped the fat man, dragging him into the house.

As the smoke passed Harry, he sighed softly before he walked inside, closing the door behind him with a single kick before, moving through to the kitchen, a cold, if not sinister smile crossed his face when he saw what he saw.

A tall, slender-looking individual whom was dressed in a stylish set of black robes, a large, deadly-looking snake slithering around the man's pale feet; with him, Harry also saw a wild-haired individual, a very attractive-looking lady with wild, dark hair and a crazed, if not beyond-broken glint in her eyes, who smiled proudly before she crossed the floor and, ignoring the muffled squeals of what were now three heavily-bound, restrained Muggles, the woman hugged Harry close, earning a shuddering gasp and a sigh from the teenage boy.

"Welcome home, my beautiful boy…and what such lovely homecoming gifts you've provided for us; I couldn't be any prouder of you if I tried, Harry."

In response, Harry nuzzled the woman's chest, melting into her warmth before he smiled, a genuine, accepting smile, as he looked up into the eyes of the woman whom, to many, was known as The World's Most Dangerous Witch, Madame Bellatrix Lestrange.

"I'm glad to see you too…Momma…"

Chapter 2 and, holy shitake mushrooms and all the deities of madness: Harry's flung the doors to Durzkaban wide open and now…oh boy: what is he going to do about the Dursleys?

Also, huh?

Why is Voldemort – yes, that's the pale man – sitting pretty in the supposedly-safest place for Harry and what's this about Harry calling the World's Most Dangerous Witch his…his Momma?

Keep Reading to Find Out

Next Chapter: Confused? Well, get ready for the truth: what really happened in that graveyard? Where did Bellatrix come from? Why is Harry using a motherly euphemism for her? All will be revealed…

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