Disclaimer: I DO NOT own anything created by J. K. Rowling's wisdom,
however everything else – is MINE!
I totally created this, please don't throw flames at me. Remember this is only a story! Please when you are done reading, write your comments! ;-)
Summary: Harry's eyes mean something very mysterious and only a sprinkle of wizards know the authentic power the person who inherits them could unleash. But when Harry finds out the genuine truth of who he really is and the amount of power he contains, will the world be hanging at the end of a knife? This takes place after OOP, so spoilers (No Slash!).
Harry the Heir of Darkness By: MotherofDarknes6 A.K.A Potterlover2004
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[b][I]Chapter 1[/b] [/I]
Voices and flashes of pictures.
[I]The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches[/I].... The look of mingled fear and surprise on his godfather's wasted, once-handsome face as he fell through the ancient doorway and disappeared behind the veil.... [I]Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies[/I].... The veil fluttered for a moment as though in a high wind and then fell back into place.... [I]And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have powers the Dark Lord knows not[/I].... The hopeful feeling of seeing his godfather once again after he fell in the veil.... [I]And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives[/I].... SIRIUS! SIRIUS!... [I]The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies.... [/I]
[I] "NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" [/I] A boy of sixteen had let out a blood-curling scream and sat up quickly, covered with sweat and exhaustion. He heard thunderous footsteps pounding through their way to his small bedroom. Downstairs was the sound of a plate dropping. It seemed that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia took no notice as their main concentration was to get to Harry. Harry quickly put on his black rimmed glasses and peered to the shaking door.
The night was clear and beautiful. But at Harry's screams it had enshrouded into a dark misty color, in which Harry took as a threat that a Dementor might be nearby since the air in the usually hot summer was as cold as ice. But the stars still shone and the moon was brighter than usual so it wasn't the Dementors nearby. But who that powerful could have caused a sudden change in the environment? It was certainly not him, but who?
"What is the meaning of THIS!" came the booming voice of his Uncle Vernon Dursley and the tangling, desperate clinking noises as he tried to open the many locks.
The stars winked at him...
Finally as Uncle Vernon entered the room with a woman with a very long neck behind his back to get a look at Harry, his red purplish face had turned on their nephew as he tried to come up with an excuse to why he was screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night to wake his horrible relatives that had done a very terrible job to take him in. The black mist that began to enter Harry's mist had quickly evaporated in a flash right before his relatives had opened the door.
"A nightmare," Harry said somberly.
"A nightmare?" Uncle Vernon's voice shook as he nervously laughed and then his laughter turned into a growled. "And did that give you every right to wake up every body in this neighborhood? Speak up, boy! I'm loosing my patience with your insolence and freakishness!"
"You know," Harry started with a scary smile placed on his face that Uncle Vernon had to take a step back, "that if you do [I]anything[/I] horrible to me I could just write to – what did you call us wizards?" Harry had dared himself to mention the words that had been forbidden to be voice aloud in the house. But Harry did not care. All of a sudden the rush of hatred towards the Dursley had grew to an immense state that he felt an uncontrollable desire to kill them. Uncle Vernon's face had flushed even harder that it would make a beet proud.
Harry continued, "Did you call us 'freaks'?" You know I could just write to them and tell them how you nicely call them. Would you like me to do that? Because I would just love to write it." Harry quickly took out a parchment, ink, and quill to Aunt Petunia's shock state.
Harry sneered as Uncle Vernon said trembling, "N-no! We'll be n-nicer to you. I swear! We'll stop making you cook our breakfast, but you should at least be more grateful to the fact that you are living under my roof, boy! We serve you food, give you clothes-"
"Yes," Harry cut him off with anger beginning to boil in his very veins, "when you want to give me food. Serve me? Ha! How many times do I have to tell you that Dudley's so-called 'clothes' are too overly big for me! You give me nothing but dirt under my fingernails. If you find me so irking, then why did you cope to have me live here!" Harry knew the answer, he just wanted to hear the painful words again.
Aunt Petunia moved from her husband's back in front of Harry and slapped him. Harry didn't even flinch, but he felt the red mark left by her slap, grow intense as her hand went back to her side looking at Harry with her pale eyes. Nothing hurt him more than loosing Sirius Black, his godfather.
Uncle Vernon looked approved that he deserved it, but a little disappointment hinted in his eyes since he didn't get hit worst. Uncle Vernon was scared of Harry's eerie green eyes. The eyes had always showed more trait that he inherited an immensely power that not even Lily Potter had shown.
"I will not tolerate your disobedience –" Uncle Vernon began, but Aunt Petunia told him to be quiet.
"You know the reason in which why we took you in," she said disgustingly. "It wasn't a choice," her pale eyes shined as she said that to Harry who just showed no emotion but hatred in his eyes. "If we did have a choice, you wouldn't be here. We were threatened by that headmaster of yours to take you in. He said that since we are blood r-related," her voice shook at the truth, "it was suppose to protect you from those who were trying to get to you. The blood, love relationship was suppose to protect you. It was not meant to protect us."
Harry's mind raced. Why would Dumbledore endanger their lives if they were not protected? [I]The type of spell Dumbledore had produced was not powerful enough for your pathetic relative[/I], a small nasty voice had said smugly. [I] He wanted to use you, Golden Boy. Wanted to use you as a powerful piece in the chessboard. He wants you to kill Voldemort so he could finally reign the reign he had wanted to do the minute you were born. He had even asked your parents if he could raise you on his own... [/I]
[b][I]What? [/b] [/I] Harry was alarmed. He became aware that the voice in his was not his but someone else's since he had not had knowledge of that before. [b][I]Who are you?[/b] [/I]
[I]It is for me to know and for you to find out. Do you believe what I just said? [/I]
Harry thought of what the new whatever it was in his head said. Was it true that Dumbledore was using him as a chess piece in the chessboard? Harry thought of the easy reasoning. It was not so hard to see that Dumbledore was using him. He had protected him, not the Dursleys. He had left him with the most horrible family in the universe instead of a family to actually love him. But Aunt Petunia had said the 'blood, love relationship' was suppose to protect him. There was the blood relationship, but there was no love. He was not protected for Lily's protection to strengthen. It was not as powerful as it should be. It was only a half protection. Anyone could come... Dumbledore didn't want him to be brought up pampered like a royal king, but a servant to serve him! Harry glared at the thought. He would never serve anybody. It was Dumbledore's fault for Sirius's death. If he had taught him Occlumency, he would had never had that false vision, and Sirius would have never died. Dumbledore's fault!
"Alright then," said Uncle Vernon in a more fashion of his business like tone, "since I have work tomorrow we must both get our sleep. You will still wake up early enough to make me my breakfast, boy!"
Harry subconsciously nodded.
Dumbledore's fault.
He nodded his head knowing that whoever it was, was saying the truth. His relatives looked at him strangely. Harry would almost believe in anything that was against Dumbledore since his hate towards Dumbledore grew far above the boiling point.
[I]Are you sure that everything Dumbledore said to you was the truth? [/I] The nasty voice had gone soft, almost in pity and shock?
Then as Harry heard Trelawny's haunted prophetic voice: [I] And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives [/I]... He, Harry, and Voldemort were BOTH alive and even though Voldemort was at Harry's throat to choke him, they were still alive. The prophecy was false, shocking Harry.
I totally created this, please don't throw flames at me. Remember this is only a story! Please when you are done reading, write your comments! ;-)
Summary: Harry's eyes mean something very mysterious and only a sprinkle of wizards know the authentic power the person who inherits them could unleash. But when Harry finds out the genuine truth of who he really is and the amount of power he contains, will the world be hanging at the end of a knife? This takes place after OOP, so spoilers (No Slash!).
Harry the Heir of Darkness By: MotherofDarknes6 A.K.A Potterlover2004
***********************************%***********************%**************** ***********%********************************
[b][I]Chapter 1[/b] [/I]
Voices and flashes of pictures.
[I]The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches[/I].... The look of mingled fear and surprise on his godfather's wasted, once-handsome face as he fell through the ancient doorway and disappeared behind the veil.... [I]Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies[/I].... The veil fluttered for a moment as though in a high wind and then fell back into place.... [I]And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have powers the Dark Lord knows not[/I].... The hopeful feeling of seeing his godfather once again after he fell in the veil.... [I]And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives[/I].... SIRIUS! SIRIUS!... [I]The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies.... [/I]
[I] "NOOOOOOOOOOOO!" [/I] A boy of sixteen had let out a blood-curling scream and sat up quickly, covered with sweat and exhaustion. He heard thunderous footsteps pounding through their way to his small bedroom. Downstairs was the sound of a plate dropping. It seemed that Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia took no notice as their main concentration was to get to Harry. Harry quickly put on his black rimmed glasses and peered to the shaking door.
The night was clear and beautiful. But at Harry's screams it had enshrouded into a dark misty color, in which Harry took as a threat that a Dementor might be nearby since the air in the usually hot summer was as cold as ice. But the stars still shone and the moon was brighter than usual so it wasn't the Dementors nearby. But who that powerful could have caused a sudden change in the environment? It was certainly not him, but who?
"What is the meaning of THIS!" came the booming voice of his Uncle Vernon Dursley and the tangling, desperate clinking noises as he tried to open the many locks.
The stars winked at him...
Finally as Uncle Vernon entered the room with a woman with a very long neck behind his back to get a look at Harry, his red purplish face had turned on their nephew as he tried to come up with an excuse to why he was screaming bloody murder in the middle of the night to wake his horrible relatives that had done a very terrible job to take him in. The black mist that began to enter Harry's mist had quickly evaporated in a flash right before his relatives had opened the door.
"A nightmare," Harry said somberly.
"A nightmare?" Uncle Vernon's voice shook as he nervously laughed and then his laughter turned into a growled. "And did that give you every right to wake up every body in this neighborhood? Speak up, boy! I'm loosing my patience with your insolence and freakishness!"
"You know," Harry started with a scary smile placed on his face that Uncle Vernon had to take a step back, "that if you do [I]anything[/I] horrible to me I could just write to – what did you call us wizards?" Harry had dared himself to mention the words that had been forbidden to be voice aloud in the house. But Harry did not care. All of a sudden the rush of hatred towards the Dursley had grew to an immense state that he felt an uncontrollable desire to kill them. Uncle Vernon's face had flushed even harder that it would make a beet proud.
Harry continued, "Did you call us 'freaks'?" You know I could just write to them and tell them how you nicely call them. Would you like me to do that? Because I would just love to write it." Harry quickly took out a parchment, ink, and quill to Aunt Petunia's shock state.
Harry sneered as Uncle Vernon said trembling, "N-no! We'll be n-nicer to you. I swear! We'll stop making you cook our breakfast, but you should at least be more grateful to the fact that you are living under my roof, boy! We serve you food, give you clothes-"
"Yes," Harry cut him off with anger beginning to boil in his very veins, "when you want to give me food. Serve me? Ha! How many times do I have to tell you that Dudley's so-called 'clothes' are too overly big for me! You give me nothing but dirt under my fingernails. If you find me so irking, then why did you cope to have me live here!" Harry knew the answer, he just wanted to hear the painful words again.
Aunt Petunia moved from her husband's back in front of Harry and slapped him. Harry didn't even flinch, but he felt the red mark left by her slap, grow intense as her hand went back to her side looking at Harry with her pale eyes. Nothing hurt him more than loosing Sirius Black, his godfather.
Uncle Vernon looked approved that he deserved it, but a little disappointment hinted in his eyes since he didn't get hit worst. Uncle Vernon was scared of Harry's eerie green eyes. The eyes had always showed more trait that he inherited an immensely power that not even Lily Potter had shown.
"I will not tolerate your disobedience –" Uncle Vernon began, but Aunt Petunia told him to be quiet.
"You know the reason in which why we took you in," she said disgustingly. "It wasn't a choice," her pale eyes shined as she said that to Harry who just showed no emotion but hatred in his eyes. "If we did have a choice, you wouldn't be here. We were threatened by that headmaster of yours to take you in. He said that since we are blood r-related," her voice shook at the truth, "it was suppose to protect you from those who were trying to get to you. The blood, love relationship was suppose to protect you. It was not meant to protect us."
Harry's mind raced. Why would Dumbledore endanger their lives if they were not protected? [I]The type of spell Dumbledore had produced was not powerful enough for your pathetic relative[/I], a small nasty voice had said smugly. [I] He wanted to use you, Golden Boy. Wanted to use you as a powerful piece in the chessboard. He wants you to kill Voldemort so he could finally reign the reign he had wanted to do the minute you were born. He had even asked your parents if he could raise you on his own... [/I]
[b][I]What? [/b] [/I] Harry was alarmed. He became aware that the voice in his was not his but someone else's since he had not had knowledge of that before. [b][I]Who are you?[/b] [/I]
[I]It is for me to know and for you to find out. Do you believe what I just said? [/I]
Harry thought of what the new whatever it was in his head said. Was it true that Dumbledore was using him as a chess piece in the chessboard? Harry thought of the easy reasoning. It was not so hard to see that Dumbledore was using him. He had protected him, not the Dursleys. He had left him with the most horrible family in the universe instead of a family to actually love him. But Aunt Petunia had said the 'blood, love relationship' was suppose to protect him. There was the blood relationship, but there was no love. He was not protected for Lily's protection to strengthen. It was not as powerful as it should be. It was only a half protection. Anyone could come... Dumbledore didn't want him to be brought up pampered like a royal king, but a servant to serve him! Harry glared at the thought. He would never serve anybody. It was Dumbledore's fault for Sirius's death. If he had taught him Occlumency, he would had never had that false vision, and Sirius would have never died. Dumbledore's fault!
"Alright then," said Uncle Vernon in a more fashion of his business like tone, "since I have work tomorrow we must both get our sleep. You will still wake up early enough to make me my breakfast, boy!"
Harry subconsciously nodded.
Dumbledore's fault.
He nodded his head knowing that whoever it was, was saying the truth. His relatives looked at him strangely. Harry would almost believe in anything that was against Dumbledore since his hate towards Dumbledore grew far above the boiling point.
[I]Are you sure that everything Dumbledore said to you was the truth? [/I] The nasty voice had gone soft, almost in pity and shock?
Then as Harry heard Trelawny's haunted prophetic voice: [I] And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives [/I]... He, Harry, and Voldemort were BOTH alive and even though Voldemort was at Harry's throat to choke him, they were still alive. The prophecy was false, shocking Harry.