Disclaimer- I don't own Harry Potter.
AN: Now, originally, I had something wayyy more disturbing… but that just doesn't fit Dark Harry's style as much. I suppose I was just fascinated by the irony of how I originally tortured (blame Angels& Demons by Dan Brown), but it didn't work. So, here we go with the PG-13 torture. 's fans, don't flame.
Chapter 8 Draconis Mortem
Harry Potter woke up refreshed, ready to start the day, thinking his luck might just change, now that he was back at Hogwarts.
He would have shot himself right then and there for jinxing it had he known earlier.
First came the stomach turning (for no reason, of course) good morning kiss Dean gave Ginny. Sure, it was a peck on the cheek, but it felt like someone had stabbed him in the gut when he saw it.
Harry ignored it, thinking he was just hungry. Of course, people once believed the Sun revolved around the Earth.
So Harry continued on with breakfast, eating steadily, ignoring Ginny's occasional giggle at something Dean said, feeling quite dejected.
Ron and Hermione began squabbling over Merlin-knows-what and probably something no one but them ever gave a damn about.
Harry was quite pleased for the distraction Professor McGonagall provided when she came around to bring them their schedules.
That was of course, before he saw his first class.
"Bloody hell," Harry muttered bitterly, "Double Potions with Snape first thing. This is going to be a great day."
Ron gave a sympathetic nod, and Hermione, used to the constant complaints her best friends had and even agreeing with some of them, mostly the ones about Snape's treatment of Harry, simply looked neutral.
"Bad luck there, mate. I still say you're bloody mental, taking Potions." Ron muttered.
"Ron! Language!" Hermione said snappishly, before turning to Harry. "You'll do fine Harry, just like on your O.W.L."
Harry offered her a weak smile. "Sure," but something told him that all the luck in the world wouldn't change Snape's attitude.
And of course, Harry was right. But before he even got inside the dungeons, his luck had taken a turn for the worse in the form of the sneering face of Draco Malfoy.
"Looks like Potty here managed to get lucky again, huh gents?" Malfoy smirked, looking at Crabbe and Goyle, hardly the description of gentlemen, Harry noted.
"Not today Malfoy." Harry muttered angrily, trying to push past him.
"You're not going to get lucky every time Potter. And I'll be there to see it." Malfoy said, the veiled threat clear.
Harry glared dangerously at the Malfoy heir. His eyes darkened considerably. "No you won't." He uttered with conviction, his threat clear.
The two glared at each other for a while, before Hermione (who had been busy harassing Ron on not studying during the time he had off this period) came in. Immediately, she knew this was a dangerous situation, one that could get very, very violent within a matter of moments. And with the rough summer Harry had been put through… Malfoy might end up in the Hospital Wing in a matchbox.
"Harry? Let's go," Hermione appeased, tugging on Harry's arm softly. .
Harry managed to break the glaring competition and stalked into the dungeons, a foul mood permeating within him, as well as a creeping rage and darkness within…
After a particularly harrowing and nearly unbearable Potions class, in which Snape took fifty points away from Gryffindor thanks to Malfoy ruining Harry's potion, and Harry's protests against the taking away of the first twenty five points. And in the very opening moments, Snape made several nasty comments about Harry, although he didn't name anyone, the glares at Harry made it clear who he believed "had gotten in thanks to special… circumstances".
Harry, under the desk, gave Snape half the peace sign, chanting a mantra of I need to stay in Potions class, keep cool, keep cool, over and over
Harry thought it lucky, by the end of the class, that he hadn't killed Snape and used his skull to smash Draco's head in.
In an even fouler mood, he stormed out of Potions class the second the bell rang, leaving a panting Hermione to keep up with him. "Harry, are you-"
Harry turned one eye onto her over his shoulder, the look in his dark emerald eyes clear. Shut up.
She complied with the wordless command, simply walking alongside the Boy-Who-Lived, trying to find a way past the dark cloud hanging around him and swirling around him.
"I guess that E on the Potions O.W.L. was a fluke thanks to Marchbanks being blinded by the Golden Boy's brilliance." A painfully familiar voice drawled. Draco Malfoy stepped forward, flanked, by who else than Crabbe and Goyle.
"Not. Now. Malfoy." Harry ground out through his grinding teeth.
Hermione actually looked worried. For Malfoy, that is. Harry was a ticking time bomb right now, and the first person to push him too far might end up looking Saint Peter in the eye at the gates of Heaven.
"Bad day? Don't worry, you won't have to suffer forever." Draco feigned concern, before that damn smirk came back. "The Dark Lord will come for you, and your little band of Mudbloods and traitors."
That does it. He's a dead little wanker.
Harry spun around with unearthly speed, and before anyone could reacthe lashed out with his right fist, and connected solidly with Malfoy's jaw.
Draco Malfoy hit the floor, whimpering in pain, before glaring up at his two bodyguards. "Get him you twits!" Draco snarled.
Crabbe and Goyle lashed out at Harry who took two punches to the gut and one to the chest before stumbling back, and grabbing his wand.
Distantly, he heard Hermione's pleading voice and someone else's outraged tone, but he didn't give a damn. He had had enough.
The roaring in his ears reached a crescendo, and he barely heard the words as a Stunner come flying out of his wand, striking Goyle in the chest while Crabbe lumbered towards him.
Out of the corner of his eye, the Malfoy heir had managed to get out his wand and let off a strange, purple colored curse. Harry spun aside as the spell struck the wall, leaving a significant burn on it. Harry let loose with an Impediment Jinx at Crabbe, while using a more powerful Force Spell to blast Draco back into the wall.
"MISTER POTTER!" McGonagall thundered in outrage. She summoned up his wand, and spun him around, looking him straight in the eye, looking furious. "What do you think you are doing!" She growled.
Harry glared defiantly back, but didn't say anything. Draco, on the other hand, began ranting about how "Potter went nutters" on them, before McGonagall silenced him with a look. "You, Mister Malfoy, are not getting away with that excuse. You deliberately taunted Mister Potter. The two of you will have detention for the next week. Separately, lest we have bloodshed on our hands." The last part was mumbled, but Harry caught it.
"Is that understood?" McGonagall asked, first looking at Malfoy, then Harry. Both boys mumbled and nodded, and glared at each other before storming away from each other.
That night, Draco Malfoy left the dungeons after cleaning the Potions cauldrons, feeling insulted. Not only was it demeaning for a noble pureblood such as himself to be subjected to menial labor, but Snape actually had the gall to berate him, telling him that his cover would be exposed if he continued to taunt Harry Potter.
For Merlin's sake, Snape hated the boy!
Draco didn't understand. The Dark Lord and his followers were pure, were right. Why did they not attack, and crush the weak fools here?
It would make his life easier.
Suddenly, the hallway darkened and Malfoy instinctively reached for his wand, backing away slowly. All light seemed extinguished, as if Hell had swallowed this particular hallway up whole to get at him.
"Who's there!" Malfoy demanded, in his superior tone.
"Just me, Malfoy. Just me." Harry's ethereal voice said, echoing all around him, and he seemingly came straight from the shadows on the walls themselves. His eyes were completely black, and he looked like the Devil himself, clad in black clothing and with his strange, malevolent aura clearly visible. His eyes held nothing, nothing at all, not even malice or anger that he usually wore when confronted with the heir of the Malfoy's. They looked like portals into the abyss, hungry and waiting.
"Potter!" Malfoy snarled, "What are you doing here!"
"Just wanted to chat, Malfoy." Harry said mockingly.
"That'll be detention Potter, for being out of bounds." Malfoy said haughtily.
"I don't think so Malfoy. Your arrogant tone is really starting to piss me off." Harry snarled, his black eyes narrowing dangerously.
"What are you going to do about it, Potter?" Malfoy asked, removing his wand.
"I'm going to kill you." He said simply, and with such conviction that Malfoy knew it was true.
"Stupefy!" Malfoy cried out, firing his spell. It hit the shadows that surrounded Harry, and was absorbed.
"Pathetic. This is what your so called purity of blood can do?" 'Harry' asked disdainfully. "You call yourself a wizard."
"My father-" Malfoy began, but Harry cut him off.
"Will be dead soon enough. But you first. Now lets see if baby Malfoy had the stones to-" The wind blasted Draco's robes, lifting up his sleeve and exposing a tattooed mark of a skull with a snake for a tounge, and evil visage. The Dark Mark. "Looks like you did. So you take all that garbage from ole Tom?" The demon asked.
"I mean really, he's a half-blood like me. Not even a pureblood. So why do you care so much for the eradication of muggles?" 'Harry' asked.
Malfoy glared at him, and said arrogantly, "It is the right of superior beings to crush those weaker than you. Purebloods are superior to muggles, and only they can purify the race. It is the birthright of our blood"
"If you believe so much in your purity of blood, then let us see if it can save you from me." 'Harry' said.
Shadows engulfed Draco Malfoy, and he felt a burning sensation screaming from his core to his skin, a strange, ripping feeling, that felt as though his very blood was being forcibly torn, drop by drop, from his veins.
"Do you feel that? It's your magic, that magic that you pride yourself on, the magic that runs in your very veins, your Malfoy magic." The demon said calmly, sounding like a doctor telling a patient dispassionately that he's going to die of a terminal disease. "In moments you will be nothing more than a squib, a muggle. Won't that be fun?"
"NO!" Malfoy called out, feeling his blood boiling in agony. He screamed.
"Oh, and while I'm doing that, the magic is resisting, so it will feel like I just set your veins on fire. Hurts, don't it?" Dark Harry asked, grinning maniacally. "Tell me if it works. After all, soon the rest of your kind, your daddy and his master will feel the same. You're going to be my first test subject though."
Draco didn't answer, feeling the boiling reaching, well, the boiling point. His skin felt burned and charred, his insides turned and twisted and boiled as if they were in a pot. The pot was his body, the fire, his blood.
"Tell me…" The demon asked softly, circling him. "Or are you that weak?"
Draco opened his mouth to answer, but the burning sensation was too much. He fell to the ground, in absolute agony. It was like he was being held over the very fires of Hell, being lowered every five seconds, just a little bit, so that his death would be slow and painful. And just when the pain seemed unbearable, that nothing could be more excruciating, he was lowered deeper into the abyss and fire of Hell.
After an unknown period of time, seemingly eternity to Malfoy and seconds to the demon, the burning stopped, and Draco felt his blood begin to cool, his skin feeling like charred wood.
"It's all gone now, Malfoy. You're a squib." Dark Harry laughed, surrounding him with the reverberations of his laugh and his darkness.
Draco Malfoy stood shakily, looking at the demon. He raised his wand, crying out, "Crucio!"
Nothing happened, save the demon kept laughing, shaking his head in amusement. "An Unforgivable, Malfoy? Naughty boy," Dark Harry chided, before bursting out into another round of laughter.
The laughter sounded like the gates of the Netherworld opening up to welcome Draco in, creaking, welcoming him with a voice of ice and death.
"Now it's time to part." The demon Harry whispered, looking into the pale gray eyes of his childhood nemesis, and in a flash, Draco felt two sharp, burning pains on both sides of his chest.
He looked in horror at the obsidian blade that lay in the demon's hands, gleaming with an obscene amount of the pure blood that Draco Malfoy prided himself on. The demon smiled at him as he fell.
As the Malfoy heir slumped to the ground, bleeding profusely, blood spraying out of his wounds like a mockery of a whale's blowhole, Harry laughed, a cold, mocking laugh that drained all warmth from Malfoy's body even faster than his approaching death.
"I've pierced your lungs, Malfoy." 'Harry' explained, circling Draco, "In a matter of moments you will choke on your own 'pureblood'." He paused, looking at the dying Slytherin.
"I don't think I really want to eat your soul, might give me indigestion with all that arrogance, and I already have your magic. But, one must always clean their plate." Dark Harry said nonchalantly, sizing Malfoy up for a moment before bending down.
The demon looked Draco in his eyes, soulless black meeting fading gray, and he began laughing.
As Draco Malfoy went beyond the pale, he went hearing the sound of that cold, mocking laughter, like the Devil himself.
Thanks to japanese-jew, Pleione, CharmedMilliE, Samurai Demon-God Sekkikage, Night-Owl123, Harrie, Silver Butterfly04, Lunatic Pandora1, harrysmom, Maxennce, HedwigPig, FroBoy, RealityIntrovert, Emma Barrows, Ginerva Potter, Tanydwr, Zeromaru: Chaos Mode, csferosha, mashimaromadness, Lady of Masbolle, dan, and lalala879345 for reviewing!
Q&A
japanese-jew- Got it in one. I'm glad you liked the portrayal of Harry's anger.
Samurai Demon-God Sekkikage- Sounds cool, doesn't fit in with how Dark Harry operates. And it definitely doesn't work with the rest of the story.
Harrie- I don't think Neville be able to see them before Harry. That would be Luna. As for why Harry whispered Sirius, Neville could see the thestrals because Sirius died.
Lunatic Pandora1- It would be cool, but it isn't a dark rage mode. Harry has really no influence over it.
harrysmom- They might have, they might not have noticed. Harry went close to the edge, he didn't go over, that's why he can remember what happened. As for sleep… define sleep.
Maxennce- I rarely, if ever, say anything or do anything by accident. The relationship with Dean will have an influence on the story.
HedwigPig- As I said above, I'm not sure. I don't think he could.
Tanydwr- Your reviews aren't weird. As for the question that you, and a few others have asked, what is Dark Harry and Harry's relationship to one another, that's a very critical piece of information. Tormenting Ginny… (Coughs, turns away) Killing one of Harry's friends is something Harry would never do. Over analysis is quite alright, it might help in this story (its helped you get a few things right that I haven't revealed yet).
Zeromaru: Chaos Mode- I didn't fry Malfoy, but is this acceptable?
mashimaromadness- Its fine, really. Fifteen hours? Wow... I can sleep at two in the morning and still wake up at eight, and feel fine.
Lady of Masbolle- Bingo!
AN: If you haven't guessed, I like the characters to die in appropriate, and in Malfoy's case, ironic ways to die. Well, don't flame me for his death and please review!