Harry Potter and the Devil's Apprentice

Summary: At the age of 7 Harry Potter disappeared. 10 years later, the world is in turmoil. The Order of the Phoenix struggles to go on as the Dark Lord reveals his mysterious Apprentice. AU

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, I'd be charging you to read this and I wouldn't be so broke.

1st chapters are my weak points, please excuse them and read on. This first chapter in particular is being used to give a brief history of what has been happening in the wizarding world since Harry's disappearance and set the scene for the story.


Chapter 1: A Prelude to Hope

Sirius Black sighed and took another swig out of the bottle he was drinking from as he slumped on the couch of his home turned headquarters. This day always depressed him, July 31st. Seventeen, Harry would be seventeen today. Whatever his godson was doing, Sirius hoped it was better than what he was doing. Looking over at his best mate, Remus Lupin, he knew the other man was thinking the same thing.

Molly Weasley, unofficial matriarch of the Order of the Phoenix, said they were lucky. Perhaps they were, in a way. They had each other and they were alive. But there were days Sirius wished he'd just drop dead. He'd failed everyone when he'd been sent to Azkaban because of sheer stupidity on his part. He'd escaped when, by chance, he'd asked to see the Minister's paper during a Ministry Inspection. It had said that the Ministry was going to pronounce Harry Potter officially dead (though Dumbledore would continue a private search on his own). Sirius's His need to find his godson had been the only thing keeping him alive ever since. Eventually he'd escaped, and by some miracle, Peter Pettigrew had been found bound and gagged in the middle of the Ministry atrium. The truth about who had really betrayed the Potters was soon out, and Sirius had returned to freedom. Yet he still continued his fervent search for his missing godson.

That search was getting harder and harder to keep up, however. Two years before Sirius escaped Azkaban, in 1992 (Harry would have been eleven then), Voldemort got his hands on the Sorcerer's Stone. Although Voldemort was too weak to gain immortality with it at the time, he did restore himself to a body and had been slowly gaining power for the last six years. The Order of the Phoenix had managed to destroy the Stone in the end, but by that time the Stone had become irrelevant to Voldemort's survival. The Ministry, of course, refused to believe the Dark Lord had returned until it was too late.

Suddenly, Nymphadora Tonks burst onto the scene holding a Muggle newspaper over her head and tripping over a coat hanger (she really wasn't the most coordinated person).

"You will not believe this!" she exclaimed excitedly.

"What, "Sirius looked up, amused despite his depression. " You've decided you want to have normal hair color from now on?"

Tonks grimaced, "Hell, no!" She ran a hand through her spiky blue hair with a grin. "I think I saw a picture of Harry in this Muggle paper."

"Is this why we were called here?" Severus Snape stepped into the room, stalking behind Albus Dumbledore. "Because you think you saw a picture of a dead kid in some Muggle piece of trash?"

But for the first time in ages, Sirius didn't care at all what Snivellus had to say about anything. Just a month ago, he had been positive Snape was a Death Eater when he cleverly faked the murder of Dumbledore during a security breach at Hogwarts. The worst thing Snape had really done that night was rescue the Malfoy kid. But now the rest of the world was sure that Dumbledore was dead and Snape was aligned with Voldemort. Only a few select members of the Order knew the truth. At least Voldemort was certain of the former Potions Master's, and as of last year, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher's, loyalty to him.

Sirius grabbed the paper from his cousin Tonks and looked intently at the front page of the evening paper. On it was a picture of the building the Death Eaters had destroyed just that morning. Searching through the rubble was rescue workers trying to find survivors. Right in the center of the photograph was a young man with scraggly black hair, glasses, and bright green eyes. He was looking for something. Sirius's heart stopped for a moment. Those were Lily's eyes. It was James with Lily's eyes.

"Harry," he choked, his eyes felt watery.

Could this young man, dressed in nothing but badly torn jeans, converse sneakers with a hole in one of them, and a ripped t-shirt that looked like it'd been nicked from a rubbish bin, really be his godson?

"It is him!" Remus's eyes were large, large and scared.

"It can't be," Dumbledore said finally with a sigh. "Check the forehead, no scar."

"What do you mean?" Sirius barked at his former headmaster.

"Voldemort hit Harry with an Avada Kedavra curse sixteen years ago. When I saw him last, he had a lightening bolt-shaped scar on his forehead. You know this Sirius. These scars don't fade. Thus, this cannot be Mr. Potter."

"YES IT CAN!" Sirius heard himself shriek, "It's Harry, you think I don't know my own godson? He's alive; he was in London this morning!"

"Padfoot…" Remus started.

"Since the Order will be meeting tonight," Dumbledore attempted to change the subject. "Perhaps it would be more beneficial to discuss Voldemort's Apprentice? Severus has just reported that more rumors than ever concerning this mysterious enigma are circulating among all of Voldemort's followers. The latest being that The Apprentice is able to perform the Cruciatus curse with not only non-verbal, but wandless, magic. And to an enormous extent nonetheless…"

"I don't care about some damn Apprentice!" Sirius growled. "I'm going to go find my godson!"

With that, he turned into his Animagus form and dashed out of Headquarters. The Apprentice was important, true. As soon as Voldemort let his charge help with the dirty work he usually had to do himself, it was almost certain an unstoppable force of evil would be officially in business. (Most of England had lost their moral after learning of this.) But all Sirius cared about for the moment, was that his godson was out there somewhere. Searching through the rubble of a Death Eater attack was no way to spend your birthday.


OK, so I've had this idea in my head for quite a while and I had to get it out of my system. I'm not too sure about where it's going to end up although I have a pretty good idea about where it's going. Please tell me if I should continue it of not.

Yes, Sirius is being a little immature. Please excuse him, his mental state isn't the most stable.

Not sure when I'll update next. I have about a million activities (including a football game tonight halfway across the state I have to perform at with color guard) and I haven't finished my summer homework yet. Believe me, I would much rather be writing this for you guys than writing about the English Petition of Rights.