Chapter 2
Albus Dumbledore was pacing his office. It has been four years since Harry Potter had gone missing. Since then no one has seen hide or head of the boy. Dumbledore himself was very worried for the boy. Had he been kidnapped, had death eaters found him? All these questions plagued him daily. Harry had a duty to complete. Voldemort was not dead and would return soon, Harry was the one who had to defeat him once and for all.
He was pulled out of his musings by his deputy. "Ah, Minerva. How has your day been, is everything going well?" he asked benignly. The Scottish woman smiled back in kind. "Yes Albus, my day is going well and the great hall is filling up already. We are almost ready for the first years." Dumbledore nodded. "Shall we?" he said gesturing to the door. They both left for the great hall. The old man sat on the staff table as his deputy exited the great hall to retrieve the first years. He made small talk with the other professors as he waited anxiously for the group of first years.
The doors to the great hall burst open to let in the small eleven year olds. Dumbledore looked over them expectantly, looking for a head of black messy hair he remembered of James. The nervous first years lined up in front of the sorting hat and it began to sing. Once it was done, Minerva started calling names. He clapped politely for every sorting until the name he has been hoping for was called. "Harry Potter!" Dumbledore's eyes widened a bit at the young man that came up front. He was a bit tall for his age and had sharp aristocratic features. He had a slight tan to his complexion, had long pitch black hair that reached his waist with bangs framing his emerald eyes. He was absolutely breathtaking, like a fallen angel.
The boy sat down on the stool. Immediately after the hat was placed on his head it screamed in terror. Everyone jumped in surprise as the hat continued to scream illegibly. Dumbledore shifted nervously in his seat as McGonagall went to take the hat off Harry's head but stopped when it ceased screaming. It fidgeted on the boy's head for a while then it reluctantly shouted "Ravenclaw!" Harry gently took the hat off his head with a satisfied look on his face and went to sit on the Ravenclaw's table. He smiled brightly as he introduced himself to his peers and went back to watching the rest of the sorting. Dumbledore relaxed both at seeing the boy alive for the first time in ten years and seeing him enjoy himself.
Harry talked animatedly with his new house mates as they ate supper. Padma Patil was talking about the Indian lifestyle and her excitement to actually be at Hogwarts. He also shared a bit about his supposed experiences living in a big mansion in hiding and his personal training. The others were jealous he got so much luxury while growing up, fantasizing about his adventures. 'Filthy humans and their stupid assumptions. We should just kill them all!' Lelita put in her two cents. Harry almost rolled his eyes but covered it with laughter.
He and Lelita had gotten closer since he left the Dursleys. She would teach him what she knew and they would talk a lot. He soon discovered how much of a psychopath the daemon was, thirsting for blood in a frightening way. It scared him every time she vocalized her thoughts about the 'low life scum that call themselves wizards'.
Flashback
Harry was walking down the streets of Wizarding Britain for the first time. He looked around at the robed wizards and witches going about their usual business. 'Look at them, walking as if they own the place.' Lelita sneered. Harry ignored her, going straight for Gringotts, the strong glamour charm hiding his identity. He was suddenly knocked over by a wizard. A snarl left his lips of its own accord as Lelita's anger sky rocketed. Luckily, the man did not notice. "Watch where you are going, boy!" the man sneered and continued on his way. Anger coursed through Harry's veins, not his own. 'How dare that scum talk down to you like you are dirt under his shoes. Kill him! Kill him for his insolence, master!' Harry jumped at the venom in Lelita's voice. He noticed he was trembling, but whether in fury or fear he did not know. He swallowed and tried to move on to the bank. Lelita was not done 'Murder that pile of carcass flesh. Rip his heart out, tear him from limb to limb, gut him with your own hands!' harry stumbled at the thrill that ran through his body at the words, hands trembling more. His breathing heightened and his eyes narrowed. Bloodlust rose up and he felt his blood burning to kill, to feel blood staining his hands. 'Yes master. Indulge in the feeling and purge the world of this filth.' Lelita purred. Someone bumped into him and Harry snapped out of his haze. His eyes widened in terror and he stared at his hands in fear. The daemon tried to goad him back into that state of bloodlust but he had had enough. 'Stop. Shut up!' he screamed in his mind. Lelita went silent most reluctantly. Harry took a moment to catch his breath before resuming walking. The silence in his head was bliss as he dealt with the goblins. Little did he know it was not the last time he would fight his inner demon.
End Flashback
That day opened his eyes to what kind of being exactly was attached to him. Over time he warmed up to Lelita's personality and she rubbed off on him too. He sometimes had bouts of bloodlust that had nothing to do with his demon friend, especially when he was angered. In the last four years he had lost count of how many people he had killed, both muggles and wizards. He learnt to accept the darker part of himself fully, that way it was easier to control unlike the period of denial he had when he couldn't stop himself from killing the random person that annoyed him. These wizards did not realize how lucky they were.
"I heard that professor Snape uses the hearts of virgin girls in his potions, that is why he is so strong." Justin Fletcher said quietly, staring in fear at the professor in question. Harry snorted and waved him off. "That is ridiculous. If he ate the hearts of virgin girls he would look better than he does now." A third year choked on his goblet as other Ravens snickered. Harry hid a smile with his own goblet.
The headmaster stood up to end the feast and the great hall filled out to their own rooms. Harry along with the other first years followed the Ravenclaw prefects to their common room. After a speech by their head of house they were allowed to settle down in their rooms. Harry shared a room with four other boys, including Justin Fletcher.
The next week was relatively peaceful. No one bothered him for being the boy-who-lived. He was surprised that Snape did not pick at him for being his father's son. He just ignored Harry more than he did others. By the end of the month he was labeled as the brightest student in his class on all the subjects, getting mostly straight O's. This upset a particular girl in Gryffindor, Hermoine Ginger or something.
He packed his things once they were dismissed from their last class of the day, DADA. Professor Quirel was done with his stuttering for the day and was fidgeting around his desk as if he wanted nothing but to hide behind it. Harry sniffed the air for the fourth time in the past two hours and again he wrinkled his nose at the feint scent of decay coming from the man. Finished with his packing he approached the man. "Excuse me professor." He said politely. Quirell looked up "Y-yes Mr. P-Potter?" Harry refrained from sneering. "There is a concept that's puzzling me, the one about Dark Faeries. I tried to read ahead to understand but I still can't find the answer I am looking for. I was hoping that you could write me a pass to the restricted section to read further." Quirell stuttered "O-Of course, wait a b-bit." He wrote down a pass and handed it to Harry and proceeded to show him out as if he couldn't stand to be in the same room as Harry.
Once in the halls Harry brought the letter to his nose and inhaled. The paper smelt of death. Quirell was slowly dying, but why? The man clearly was not all he made himself to be. He stashed the letter in his pocket and made his way to the great hall for dinner.