Harrison Peverell: Imperator Mortis: 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: Harry James Potter: the only one with the power to survive the impossible. But what is this power? Love? Sacrifice? Magic most unknown? Or could there be a much darker, more-terrifying truth to it? If the Killing Curse didn't kill him, what did it do?

Author's Note: So, here we have an attempt at my all-time favourite theme in HP fanfiction, with some seriously nightmarishly-terrifying, like brown trousers-necessary moments coming up for one and all.

Don't read in the dark! (Evil Laugh!)

Recommended Reads: Harry Potter: Lord of Darkness by AngelSlayer135, Kill me if you can by PercyPendragon3, Damaged Raven and Dark Lord Potter by JustBored21, The Rise of a Dark Lord by LittleMissXanda, Harry Potter: The Apex God by spartankiller117, The Dark Prince: Rebirth by TheDarkLover22, Lord Thanatos by Scarlette-Moon-Howl, Two Minds, One Wand by RobertWilsonWriting, Ascension by PerseusPeverell092, A Darker Shade of Magic by TheSonofTartarus77, The Darkness: Descends, The Darkness: Returns and The Darkness: Embraced by ReusableMermaid, The Young Lord by SlytherinDarkHarry, Harry Potter and the Riders of the Apocalypse by HunterBerserkerWolf, The Darkening Of Your Soul, The Necromancer and To Live Is A Rarest Thing by MaeglinYedi and Worthy of Magic by Raul Fictitious

Added Warnings For This Story: This story WILL contain Slaves, Darkest Magicks, Violence, Language, Deaths, Murder, References to Mature Themes/Backstories and a SERIOUSLY OOC, OP/Godly-Powerful Harry driven to do GREAT EVIL!

(There: now you can't say later you weren't warned, so, for the first time in a while, I'll say it now: DON'T LIKE IT, DON'T READ IT!)

Key Pairing: Evil Dark-God Harry/Tonks/Luna/Fleur (Others Possible, but not likely)

Other Pairings: To be determined

Normal Speech

'Thoughts'

'Mental Speech'

/Parseltongue/

Chapter 1: His Worst Nightmare, Or Is It?

"I'm afraid I must admit to some confusion upon receiving your letter, Professor Dumbledore!"

As soon as he heard those words from the ordinary-looking lady who accompanied him up the stairs through a seemingly-ordinary orphanage, Albus Dumbledore felt his blood turn to ice as he felt the deathly touch of déjà vu creeping up and down his spine. Below him, as he accompanied his female companion up the stairs, Dumbledore heard the distant sounds of children at play, many of them so happy-go-lucky that, for a brief moment, he wanted to believe…no…he told himself to believe this was nothing but a sheer coincidence.

Then, his companion, a middle-aged lady named Miss King, spoke again.

"In all the years he's been here, Harry's never had so much as a family visitor…not since she left him here without a second thought."

"S-S-S-She?" asked Dumbledore fearfully, a small part of him wanting so very much to hear something…anything apart from this nightmare unfolding for a second time as he asked, "S-S-S-She…who, dear lady?"

"I…I never got her name," admitted Miss King, though, for a brief moment, Albus thought he saw her shiver and flinch, as though she'd just been struck by lightning, before she continued in a surprisingly-soft voice. "All I knew was the screech of her car tyres as she sped away from the home, leaving nothing, but this precious little soul lying on our doorstep, cold, wet, hungry and hoping some innocent soul would take him in."

The fact she managed to say that in one breath, without breaking her tone, or her belief in what she was saying, not to mention the strange flinching motion she'd shown before saying the words, actually made Dumbledore wonder whether or not this was someone's idea of a compulsion put on the kindly lady.

At least, that's what Albus guessed, while he also tried not to panic too much, as he asked, "Well…what can you tell me about Harry? What sort of boy is he, Miss King?"

"Oh, a joy to have, to be sure," said Miss King, actually brightening up as she explained, "He is always being helpful with our new charges, and he's never without friends surrounding him, except for when he wants to be alone. Then, it's the strangest thing, Professor Dumbledore, but not only do the younger ones, and even our elder students, give him his space. But, I swear, the minute he's back in the garden, or down in the play room, you'd think he'd been away for weeks as they're falling over themselves to be around him. And he lets them; he even plays until it's way past curfew, but, whenever I've tried chastising him for it, the others…they willingly take the blame and even beg me not to punish Harry."

"Is…is that so?" asked Dumbledore, the cold feeling inside him returning again.

HPIM

A natural leader.

One who inspires loyalty in others, to the point they are willing to do anything to please him.

And his way with them, like he is a magnet for those who desire to be close to him.

And the orphanage…

And Miss King's frightening choice of words…

And the orphanage…

And the orphanage…

And his isolation…

And, in case he didn't say it before, the ORPHANAGE!

HPIM

Albus wanted to believe it was all a coincidence, but…

"Then, of course, there are the…incidents…"

'No,' thought Dumbledore, trying and failing to keep the dread out of his voice as he asked aloud. "W-W-W-What…incidents, Miss King?"

"Well," said the kindly lady, stopping on the landing as she turned to Dumbledore before she explained, "Like I said, most of the time, Harry is an absolute treasure; always kind, always helpful and always hoping that he can make others feel welcome. But, outside of those times…well, I'm not saying he is, in any way, responsible for these things: after all, he's an eleven-year-old boy with…with so much potential ahead of him, but…oh, I don't know…maybe I'm just being paranoid."

"Please…tell me…" said Dumbledore, silently lacing his words with a compulsion charm, while he gulped hard as he added, "I assure you, my lady; whatever you may have to tell me, it will remain strictly confidential between the two of us."

To his relief, his compulsion seemed to take hold quickly enough, judging by how relaxed the kind lady looked before, taking a deep breath, she looked back to Dumbledore as she explained, "It was one of Harry's first ever adoptions…or possible ones, anyway: the family were a really cute couple who, sadly, discovered they couldn't have children, not after the birth of their twin boys. It was a really strange time: anyway, the youngsters took to their potential big brother like fish to water, but, while the two boys seemed eager to be around Harry and love him, take point from him and even idolise, maybe even worship him, the parents…well, the Father was a milkman, and the Mum was a housewife, but…for some reason, when they got Harry out to the car…it was like the family did a one-eighty…well, the parents, anyway."

"What happened?"

"The Mother started clutching at a crucifix around her neck," explained Miss King, shivering with a mixture of dread and cold reminisce as she explained in a soft voice, "She then kept repeating this prayer about Christ protecting her, while the Father looked like he was seeing the face of a demon. The next thing we know, Harry's back in my office, where he doesn't even seem fazed by their denials, although he did seem to wave off the twin boys, promising them they'd meet again someday. It was spooky…but it was also sad and…and definitely a little strange; what was even more unusual was how, three days later, one of the boys turned up at the home where he hugged Harry and said that he was so glad that Harry wasn't angry with them…it was really unusual…even moreso when the other was then accompanied in by a police officer."

"Why were the boys there?" asked Dumbledore curiously.

"Because…according to the officer, the parents had tried to commit a murder-suicide pact in response to their boys being tainted by the Devil, as the Father claimed, but a neighbour heard the boys' screams and called the police…sadly, the parents died by putting guns to their heads; a sad, if not sick way of it all ending, but…after that…the boys were, mercifully, adopted, but Harry…he only seemed interested in the twins' desires to keep him happy. In the end, the only reason they even let the adoptions go ahead was because they said Harry said it was okay."

The bad feeling was back, if not increased in force now.

Miss King, however, swallowed hard before she shivered as she explained, "I…I know Harry wasn't actually responsible, but…well, you asked about strange incidents, Professor Dumbledore. And…and obviously, he was only an innocent youth, but…I can never forget how eagerly those boys worshipped his words and him being around them. After that…well, the only other incident I can think of is…is when one of our worse-case boys vanished so suddenly…"

This was one Dumbledore didn't necessarily want to hear, but, as he went to ask what had happened, he was cut off, as was Miss King, by the sound of a toilet flushing. To the old man's surprise, Miss King also seemed to snap out of her trance long enough to turn to the sound of the flushing, which, when Albus looked with her, he was more than a little surprised to see what he saw.

A pale-skinned, albeit attractively-so, young boy with wild, raven-black hair that stood up on top of his head like a crown of living darkness; he also had a pair of very bright, almost-fiery-frozen emerald-green eyes that made it look like the Avada Kedavra Curse actually lived in his eyes. He wore a loose-fitting shirt, which was tucked up at the elbows, exposing pale, slender arms and delicate-looking fingers, while he also wore a pair of blue denim jeans with nothing on his feet.

The most-intimidating, if not surprising, aspect of the boy's appearance, however, was the lightning-bolt scar that Dumbledore could see as clear as day on the boy's forehead, indicating his presence and identity as that of who he was.

"Oh, Harry!" gasped Miss King, earning a coy-looking smile from the boy as he shrugged.

"Sorry if I scared you, Martha," said Harry, his voice surprisingly-light and warm, if not friendly, for someone as dread-inducing as what Dumbledore had just heard, while the boy explained, "I really needed the toilet, you see, and it couldn't wait: oh, and this must be the nice professor man who sent me that letter inviting me to the private school my parents went to, right?"

"I…I am, Harry, yes," said Dumbledore.

In response, Harry extended a hand, which Dumbledore shook; the boy had a loose, but confident grip about him and, as he shook Dumbledore's hand, Harry beamed like the cat that ate the canary as he inclined his head to the elder gentleman.

"I must say that it's an honour to meet you at last, Professor Dumbledore, sir; I never really knew anything about my Mum and Dad, sir, so, for someone who knew them as a teacher to come and talk to me…it's like Christmas has come early for me, sir. Say, Martha, would you mind if the Professor and I go to my room to talk?"

"I suppose not," chuckled Miss King, before she indicated the stairs again as she explained, "Just make sure he signs out when he leaves, Harry, and then, come down for dinner: you know the other kids won't start eating without you."

"I try and tell them not to do that," argued Harry, actually sounding like a naughty boy being scolded by his elder.

As Dumbledore saw Miss King scoff in response, only to leave the two alone, he felt a glimmer of hope rise up in his chest.

Maybe it was all a coincidence, after all.

After all, Harry didn't seem to be anything too much like Tom, much less out to see the Muggle World burn.

Maybe Albus' age was finally starting to catch up with him.

HPIM

"Come on in, Professor; you can take my window seat. I'll sit on the bed."

"Thank you, Harry," said Dumbledore, following the boy's lead as he walked into a room that seemed to be filled with wall-upon-wall of pictures, all of which had been drawn with a surprisingly-talented hand, as well as coloured in with chalks, pastels, paints and even felt tip pens. One of them even looked like it had been made up of shiny stones of some unusual design, making the picture – a boy riding a beautiful black-winged Pegasus horse – look even more amazing.

A single bed was next to this very impressive image and, as Harry sat down on the bed, he indicated the seat near the currently-open window.

"Please sir, sit…oh, and can I also say I'm honoured you think me worthy to be called by my first name, even from a teacher, sir?"

"Ah, well, I often do that for my…personal favourites," admitted Dumbledore, sitting in the offered chair as he explained, "More those who, right from the off, I get a very strong sense of familial duty towards. I actually extended that right to your parents, Harry, and they, in turn, as I hope you do, knew that they could call me Albus when it wasn't official or for punishing reasons."

"Golly," said Harry, earning a soft chuckle from Dumbledore as Harry added, "I…I'm not sure I…I could get used to that, sir…but I can try, I s'pose."

"Thank you, Harry; well, shall we…"

Suddenly, Albus' eyes widened when a soft mewing noise cut him off; seconds later, Harry bent down and, reaching under his bed, he removed a very unusual-looking cat from beneath his sleeping area.

The cat – a Bengal cat, Dumbledore noted – had dappled, grey fur with rosette-like spots all over its body; what was even more unusual than that, however, was the fact that the rosettes seemed to be a strange, if not enchanting blend of red, black and white colours that blended in with the grey as though they belonged there.

However, what was most-unusual was how, when Albus saw the cat nestle down in Harry's arms, only to look to him in apparent curiosity, he saw that the cat had the exact shade of fiery-frozen AK-green eyes that Harry himself had, albeit with slit-like cat pupils instead of human ones.

"Aww," said Harry, petting the cat fondly as he smiled down at it. "Did you want to come and say hi to the nice, new Headmaster of our super-special school, Damien? It's all right, he's not a scary guy; he knew my Mum and Dad…well enough to call them family, isn't that right, sir?"

"I…uh…yes," said Albus, before he laughed softly as he asked, "Did you say his name was…Damien?"

"Owing to one of the other kids saying he was a little devil when I found him," said Harry, tickling the cat, Damien, behind one ear, earning a rolling purr from the cat as Harry looked up at Dumbledore.

"It's because of him that I also know I'm a wizard, Professor Dumbledore, sir, which is why I'm really looking forwards to coming to Hogwarts: I just hope that it's okay for me to bring my familiar along with me."

In that one moment, any doubts that Dumbledore might have had concerning Harry being like Tom died instantly.

HPIM

Friendly.

Receiving.

Had a very friendly, if not curious pet for a familiar.

Had a very strong sense of respect towards Dumbledore.

And, apparently, he was someone who inspired loyalty, but also knew when to follow instructions.

If this was Voldemort, Albus would eat the Elder Wand…

HPIM

"So…I assume that's everything; I'll send a colleague of mine to take you to the Alley on your birthday, if that's all right, Harry?"

"It's fine, sir…"

"Harry?" asked Dumbledore, earning a blush from the boy.

"Sorry…Albus…wow, still weird; say bye, Damien!"

The cat purred as Dumbledore inclined his head to the feline, who then seemed content to toy with a strand of Harry's bedding, while the boy bowed Dumbledore out the door, while the old man nodded again, "Nice to meet you, my boy; see you at school."

"Bye sir…"

With that, Dumbledore left.

HPIM

Harry closed the door to his bedroom, before he turned back, facing Damien, who looked up at him with his bright, unusual eye colour.

Heaving a sigh, Harry grimaced as he shivered with hatred and loathing.

"Blech…I swear, Damien: I need a shower after playing nice for that senile old fool for so long! I mean, he didn't even try to pry too deeply once he saw what he thinks is a nice, normal, naïve little Freddie First-Year…"

Damien hocked up a hairball, making Harry laugh as he petted the cat before he added, "All right, you've waited long enough…go on…change…"

Letting out a yowl that turned into a primal roar of fury and oaths of vengeance, Damien leapt into the air…

And, seconds later, a large, very fierce, deadly-looking leopard-like creature with an almost-inflatable-like neckline and collared muscles growled darkly as it leaned forwards, nuzzling its head against Harry as he smiled fondly at the new creature.

"I love it when you shift into your true form, Damien," said Harry, tickling the new feline's head fondly before he kneeled down as he looked into the savage beast's bright, fiery and, at that moment, predatorily-hungry emerald-green eyes with a mixture of relief and satisfaction.

"I'm just glad that I managed to stop that insect, King, from being compelled by his weak magic to dredge up memories of your favourite Christmas Dinner, my beautiful boy! The last thing I need right now is to give Albus Dumbledore a reason to suspect his little Boy-Who-Lived is anything more than an innocent little first-year."

As the beast licked his fangs in a reminder of his own, Harry sat on his bed, while Damien curled around him, earning a soft laugh from his Master.

"Good Nundu," said Harry, kissing Damien on his brow as he added, "Keep being my good boy and, I promise, this time, I won't make you wait so long before I convince our pets to bring you a tasty sacrifice or two, deal?"

Damien licked his master's hand…

And, seconds later, the Bengal Cat was once again purring contentedly in his master's lap, earning another fond smile from Harry as he resumed stroking the smaller feline, his eyes now on the window of his bedroom.

'Now, old man, after ten years of waiting, now, the games can begin…'

HOLY SHIT ON A SANDWICH!

Harry…he's definitely not playing with kid-gloves, but, curious: if he's so dark and as Tom-like, if not worse, as Dumble-dork fears, why is he playing a game of Clark Kent with the old fossil?

Also, WHERE in the name of sanity did Harry get a freaking Nundu as a familiar, and why is it that it can do…what it did?

Keep Reading to Find Out

Next Chapter: Harry meets his guide for the day, which leads to some more fun and games; also, having dealt with the boring bits, Harry leaves his 'home' for a meeting with some of his favourite pets, who seem beyond-eager to welcome and serve their Master…

Please Read and Review

AN: Portrayals

Albus Dumbledore: Michael Gambon

Martha King: Melissa McCarthy