The Darkest Appeal

Disclaimer: Do you ever wonder why people have to put these on their stories? WE clearly don't own it. I wish I did, and I also wish that I owned Draco. But I've come to accept that something's aren't going to happen.

Warning: Dark!Harry. Oh, and DM/HP slash (as if that's a bad thing.)

The fifth and sixth books never happened- it goes against lily's history with James.

NOT AN UPDATE- I just got sick of looking at the mistake riddled piece of crap, so I'm doing some mild changes.


Chapter One- The picture of Evil

I strolled purposefully toward the Malfoy Manor. A part of me, a very small part mind you, was itching to tell me that this was a very bad idea. I brushed that thought away almost immediately. I'm rejoining my father, and planning to wreck havoc on the very world that sought to destroy me. What could possibly be wrong about that?

The extravagant manor sits upon a mossy hill, vines creeping up the ancient, Victorian style walls. Red rose bushes lines one side of the wide path while white roses line the other side. As it was still early morning, dew droplets sit on the short grass, giving the lawn a healthy glow to it. In the center of the huge courtyard, there is a fountain made of pure silver, carved into the shapes of ascending angels. 'Must of cost a fortune that must have, 'I silently note,' pretty though….'

I shudder slightly at that thought. I don't do pretty. Mean, yes, Evil, defiantly, but never pretty. I disgust myself. Strangely enough, all this talk of pretty things brings me to thoughts of Draco.

Surly I couldn't…no, why would I….I couldn't actually like him?

I shake my head quickly, black hair falling gracefully in my eyes. Of course I don't like Draco. The very thought! I just want him is all.

Suddenly, I find myself at the front door of the Malfoy's home. My little inner monologue took me all the way across the grounds. From the back, I can hear the shouts of excitement that only Quidditch can bring. Noticing the huge carvings on the door, as well as all the brass hangings, I am struck by the thought of how vain these people are, obviously showing off their vast stores of galleons. I lift the huge knocker and let it crash down on the oak door.

I wait impatiently for someone, anyone to answer the door. Tapping my foot upon the ground, my eyes narrow at being kept waiting. We Riddles were never patient people, my father being a prime example of that.

Finally, the door is opened a crack and a tiny, if not extremely ugly, house elf looks up at me with its wide, expressive brown eyes. They remind me of the mudbloods'.

"What can Cheffy do for you sir?" The pitiful creature murmurs.

I look down at it with disgust, before replying in a haughty tone. "I wish to speak to the lord of the manor and any guests that he may be hosting."

"Yes sir. Right away sir. Cheffy will tell them of your arrival. Was they expecting you, sir?"

"Yes" My answer is short, and to the point. Why would I waste my precious breath and time on such a low life form? I wouldn't.

The creature scampers away quickly, obviously extremely uncomfortable in my presence. It should be, for I am unsure why I even allowed the creature to bask in my presence.

Promptly, the house elf returns to the door, claiming that the lord Malfoy will see me now. Damn straight, he'll see me. Arrogant asshole. I may love Draco, but as of yet, I cannot stand his father.

I freeze where I stand. LOVE? When did it become love? Certainly of my own accord. I simply cannot tolerate the theory of love. It is just a state of mind. Besides, I am the son of the greatest dark lord ever to walk the planet. I don't feel such plebian emotions such as love. Lust, maybe, but never love.

The house elf, Caffie, or something like that, leads me through the mansion, straight to the parlor. I sweep in, seemingly unaware that I am now surrounded by Death Eaters.

"Sooo…" My father begins slowly, pondering his next move. After all, an ill prepared Dark Lord is a stupid Dark Lord. Those are words to live by. Can't be unprepared, it's only an invitation to be taken advantage of.

"Let me see this book of yours, Mr. Potter, so we can see if your tale is a true one or just that, a tale…." I hand my father the leather bound book under my arm. I feel no fear towards this man, nor any ill will for the trouble he has caused me earlier in life. To my great surprise, he hands it to Lucius Malfoy, who quickly scans the pages. As he reaches the page I know to be my own branch of the family tree, his gray eyes widen in disbelief.

Father grins, causing the death eaters to flinch back. They are obviously not used to father smiling. It's all rather amusing. Dad ushers them all out of the room for our little talk. Normally, I would be very scared in these circumstances, but something is telling me that I won't be hurt so long as I'm with him. Although, I could be wrong.

"Forgive me my child, but my ignorant second would simply not accept the facts. I, however, know the truth. You only know a part of that truth, the part of your linage. Would you like to know how you became a Potter instead of taking your place in the Circle of Death Eaters like you were destined? Would you like me to tell you, my son?"

I nod wordlessly, too fascinated by what he is saying to me to actually respond like a normal human being. But, really, when have I ever been normal?

"Your mother was adopted into a muggle family after her parents, the Romanophs. They were a powerful family centered in West Russia . Very powerful. Very dark, as well. No one is really sure how they died, but it is suspected that they were assassinated for activity in the Dark Arts. Dumbledore took the only survivor and gave her to the Evans, a muggle family here in England . They raised her like their own daughter, unaware of her true heritage. She attended Hogwarts, and did fabulously. Prefect, Head Girl, straight A's, she did it all. Eventually, in her seventh year, Dumbledore told her the truth, that she was really the heir to a prominent dark family. Enraged at being lied to, much like you are now, she threw herself into the dark arts. After she left Hogwarts, she did the same as me, searched for power. We met and decided to team up to kill the man who had destroyed our lives. Eventually, something grew between us."

Here I had to stop him. "But father, aren't you so much…ummmm….well…" For the first time in weeks, I was completely unsure of how to phrase this so it would not seem insulting. In fact, it was the first time in weeks I had cared if something sounded insulting. I'm going too soft.

"Older?" He supplies. I nod quietly. Why do I feel like such a little child around him? "Yes, but love knows no such boundaries, I suppose. That is correct, I fell in love. Understand, Harry, that it's perfectly okay for a dark lord to fall in love." 'This man is reading my mind' I think. I'm suddenly not so ashamed of my feelings toward the younger Malfoy.

"We got married, and began taking over the world. Those were best years of my life. Then she got pregnant. I didn't know, of course. Lily disappeared later on that month. I was devastated. I had all the death eaters out searching for her for nearly 2 years. It was Lucius who found her, Pettigrew told him. She …she was… married to James Potter."

At my shocked expression, he chuckled, even though this was clearly a difficult subject for him. "What, you thought that he got the place of my second for his brains? Malfoy may be cunning, but what he has in looks, he lacks in the... ahh…intellectual areas."

I've got to tell you, that grossed me out just a little bit. Having your father admit that another man is handsome when you want his son is not something you want to hear. Imagine yourself in my shoes. I visibly wince.

"We tracked them down on that fateful Halloween night. I killed James, thinking that he may have had a love spell on my Lily. As you know, love spells become void after the caster dies. I went up stairs. I then saw something that made my blood chill colder then it already was, if you can imagine. Lily didn't remember me. As far as she knew, I was just an evil Dark Lord after her life. I knew I had no choice but to kill her." Father speaks in a slightly defeated tone. I'm beginning to feel very sorry for him. I can only imagine what would happen if I had to kill Draco, for both our goods. How unfortunate.

Turning to father, I say the very thing I'm thinking. "I'm seeing a whole new side to you, dad. You fell in love, got married and she left. You really do have feelings. I've got to tell you, it's creeping me out."

He laughs. Not a chuckle, not a grin, but my father, Voldemort, laughed. And the amazing thing is, no one was about to be tortured or killed. It's a very good thing that his Death Eaters aren't here. They'd probably be petrified by this side of him. I'm also fairly certain that my mother and I are the only ones who have ever seen this side of him.

"Thank you Harry."

"You know what? I don't like that name. Lucien is a much better name." He nods, to distraught over the flashbacks he's no doubt receiving.

It's true. Harry just reminds me too much of my past life and the lies that have been told over the last sixteen years. I like the name Salazar. It pulses with power and will remind people of Salazar Slytherin, a great man. The name Harvarendo just scares me. What the hell were my parents thinking? No one, and I mean no one, would want to go by that name.

"Dad," I whisper. I'm now right up to his chair kneeling on the armrest. "If your story is true, how did I get this scar?"

"I'm not exactly sure. It might have been the house falling around you, could have been Dumbledore. I wouldn't rule that man out of this. The curse could have also rebounded off Lily and hit you, since she was holding you to the end. I miss her so much…."

I really don't know what to say. This man is so different from the, for lack of a better word, thing that I was expecting. I want to help him defeat the man that destroyed both our lives. I want to join his forces and dominate the world, with Draco by my side. You see, no matter what I'm thinking about, it all comes back to Draco. I want to see him, but I don't think I should leave.

We sit there for a long time, just talking about our lives, catching up on what we've missed since my birth. I still have more questions, but I think Father has suffered enough for today. It can wait.

I summon a house elf, the same disgusting creature from before. I tell it to summon the Death Eaters to dinner. Straightening my robes, I smirk at my father.


A.N.

Really still hate this story. What ever.