A Dark Lords Rising Remastered

by OrionB15

The Dark Lord made a very different choice on Halloween of 1981, and with it he may have brought the very destruction to the light that they so rightfully feared. Now Harry is growing under the training of Lord Voldemort in order to avenge his fathers deaths to the proclaimed leader of the light. A retelling of A Dark Lords Rising with much better grammar, and flow. HarryXDaphne

3. Chapter 3

(A/N) We are now going to do a hell of a time skip. To start Chapter 3 we will be in Harry's first trip to Diagon Alley at eight years old. Follow the first several paragraphs carefully and you will quickly catch on.

Chapter 3

(Third Person Point of View from Harry Potter's Perspective)

Harry James Riddle woke up on the 31st of July to celebrate his eighth birthday. This was a true milestone to the only child of Tom Marvolo Riddle or more commonly known as the Dark Lord Voldemort. Today his father had promised to take him to Diagon Alley as he did many years ago to buy his first wand. Most children Harry's age were told they have to wait until they were eleven, but Harry's magical core was so strong he was burning through practice wands every week these days. His father had been training him at a very fast pace, but truthfully, the Dark Lord knew his son's power was being regressed by carrying such feeble wands around. It was his father and his Godfather's belief however that his core had developed enough to adapt to a wand.

Harry often found himself awake at night anxious to discover if his father figures ' theories were correct. He could sense the power flowing through him when he trained, and practiced the drills his father taught him. Even when his honorary uncle Severus worked him through Occlumency he knew the power was there. Now he wanted to take steps to ensure he could one day stand against his father's death eaters. The young man was desperate to prove his worth, and even though It was likely he could probably stand up to any eight-year-old in his world, he wanted more, more knowledge, more skill, and more power.

Since a very young age, Harry had been trained in mostly hand to hand combat. But once he reached the age of six his tutors began giving him practice wands. The first six months consisted of constant training, which would produce a spark, but that was about all he could do. At seven he was able to cast his first real spell, Serpentsortia. It was a rather basic spell, but it was how his family realized that he was a parselmouth, much like his father. The look his father, the Dark Lord gave him, was in his ten-memory pensive as his most treasured memory to the date. He would never forget the words the man had said, 'I believe I have found a worthy heir.'

The ability had shown a deep connection between father and son that the young man had immediately cherished. Harry knew that he was adopted, but he hadn't yet discovered why his parents gave him up. The occasional visit from his mother was nice, but he knew something wasn't quite right with her. Even at his young age he recognized that something was wrong with the woman's magic. Much like he could sense his own magic he could sense the woman's unstable core. He could understand that there wasn't something quite right about the way she carried herself, but when he questioned his father about it he told Harry to just be grateful for what little time he did have with her.

Voldemort had explained to Harry that the heir of Slytherin had never had a chance to spend any sort of time with his mother, and that every moment with his surviving family should be a blessing. At such a young age he hardly understood the man's words, but would always nod in agreement to not draw the man's ire.

After his first spell was cast, many more came. Then suddenly he was studying all the Hogwarts first year curriculum like crazy, but somethings he couldn't perform no matter how hard he tried. Then on his seventh Christmas he was able to cast his first charm, Wingardium Leviosa. With another barrier knocked down more spells came easily after that, basic transfiguration was nearly a second nature to him these days, but he enjoyed nothing more than charms. With all these assembled skills he took on mild dueling with his father. He knew his father would only cast spells he knew at him, and Harry was unable to cast a shield, which trained his reflexes to an unnatural level.

The young man's childhood hadn't been all training though. While being a rather serious young man, Harry had managed to befriend Draco Malfoy. At first the blonde boy had been constantly jealous of the young Riddle's power, but then the other boy realized what mischief, and trouble they could get into around Malfoy Manner with his abilities. Needless to say the jealousy never hindered their aptitude to have fun together.

While Harry enjoyed his time with the blonde boy that was close to his age he preferred the time with his Godfather, Regulus Black. Regulus was every bit the fun uncle Harry ever could've asked for. He was always given his favorite presents from the man, and was even taken to Quidditch games throughout the years. When the two realized they both had a love for quidditch, Regulus even taught him how to ride a broom much to Harry's delight.

As Harry looked about his modestly sized room he stood up quickly and began his everyday routine. This always started with stretching lightly and doing some push ups, set ups, along with a few pull ups. Regulus and his father insisted that pushing his physical body to an athletic level would pay dividends in his fathers dueling training, so as always Harry did as he was told. Harry was not yet aware of why he was trained so rigorously but, his father explained to him that one day, the bad men may come for him because he was his son, so Harry always did his best in order to remain beside his father.

Looking around the room there were several pictures of his friends and some of the death eaters which he was closest to. Harry no longer looked like a mini James Potter, but he also didn't really look like the father that raised him. In truth he could see a lot of his mother's features in him. Something he wasn't really sure how to feel about. With the magic Voldemort placed on him as a boy, the only obvious trait he kept from the Potter's was the messy black hair. He was not some scrawny child like he was told that James Potter was. He was broad shouldered for his age and his eye site was wonderful.

The picture closest to his bed was one he glanced at often. Three individuals in the training room watching Harry levitate his feather for the first time on Christmas day. Bellatrix, his favorite crazy Death Eater, and his father watched with pride as the boy of seven years managed his first bit of Hogwarts level magic. Bellatrix had taken a front seat in his magical training that day, and she never took it easy on him, which was something the boy loved. An honest challenge was something Harry Riddle just could not back down from, and the woman was full of them. Then there were other pictures displayed on his wardrobe of Harry and Draco, or Harry and Theodore Nott, who was his other good friend, and then of course their families with him.

As Harry headed into his bathroom he couldn't feel a worry in the world. He had a brief visit with his mother planned, and then he would return to meet with his father and go to Diagon Alley. It was a day he long looked forward to, and couldn't wait to get past his visit with his mother so he could get a real wand.

Getting to the main common area of the manor was no small task. The entire east wing was locked off in parseltongue, and once his father found out he could speak it, he gave him the entire wing that was practically abandoned and unusable by his death eaters. This gave him his own personal common room, study, and pantry. Harry loved his isolation at times, but it was a little unsettling at first. Of course, as Harry got older he understood that the fortress in which he lived in was impenetrable though, so there was no need to panic as long as he was within the borders of his childhood home.

After a decent hike down to the central part of the manor he made it to the fireplace where a patient Severus Snape was standing, his arms crossed behind back like a young soldier. The man greeted the young boy with a slight nod, "Good morning Mr. Riddle."

"Good morning Professor Snape." Harry answered happily. The man had always insisted on being referred to as such since one day Harry would be taught by the man at Hogwarts, "Is my mother ready for me?"

If Harry was older he might've recognized the pained look in the man's eye, but at eight years old he couldn't comprehend such emotions when the man merely said, "Naturally."

With a motion towards the fireplace Harry stepped forward to floo Network, and grabbed a quick pinch of the powder while dropping it below him saying calmly, "Lilypad Lane."

With a flash of the fire he quickly found himself sucked into a momentary darkness before he stepped out of the fireplace of a small flat outside of Eastbourne. Immediately his eyes fell upon a redhead sitting on the couch looking impatient. When her eyes fell upon them they lit up, "Harry! Happy birthday. You've grown so much since I last saw you. Come here son."

The woman stood weakly reaching for a nearby cane while Harry offered the woman a small smile as he stepped forward, "Hi mum. How are you feeling today?"

"Much better now that you are here." The woman answered, placing a soft kiss on top of his head, and embracing him tightly.

They held their position for a moment before separating, and the woman sent a glare at the fireplace as Snape stepped out, "I thought I was getting alone time with my son today Severus?"

The man seemed to visibly flinch at her words, but merely said, "The Dark Lord insisted that I wait for Harry to be ready to return to Slytherin Manor. He is on a tight schedule today, and has a promise to fulfil to the boy. To take him to get his first wand."

"His first wand? Severus, he is only eight?"

"And very advanced for his age. As one of his tutors I assure you he is ready for it." The man answered easily.

The woman pursed her lips clearly displeased, but said nothing further, before offering her son a smile when she looked down at him, "Well first things first I suppose I should give you your gift in case our visit gets cut short."

When she said that she sent another strange look towards Severus that Harry didn't quite understand, but was excited at the prospect of a gift, "That sounds great mum!"

The woman seemed to reach for something in her back pocket, but sighed as she seemed to remember something before walking behind the nearby kitchen counter, grabbing a small wrapped box, and presenting it to the boy, "It's not much Harry, but it's something I think you will enjoy. Happy birthday darling."

Not even hesitating to rip into the package Harry tore into it finding a new pair of shoes that he had told Severus he wanted for his exercise, "Wow I saw these in Diagon Alley with Professor Snape. Thanks mum! I love them."

Throwing his arms around the woman she let out a deep breath as she rubbed her son's back seemingly relishing in the feel of his hug.

For over an hour the two talked of his plans for the rest of his birthday, and all the spells he had learned to cast since boxing day when he last saw her. Harry was just starting to enjoy the woman's company, when Professor Snape cleared his throat, "Lily I'm sorry, but my Lord calls for his son."

The woman seemed to want to say something vicious at that, but seemed to think better of it as her shoulder sagged, "Very well Severus. Please will you put it to...our lord for me to get an extra day a year. I've done everything he has asked. Please just an extra day or two. I miss my son Sev."

The man had a strange look on his face, but shook his head, "I will ask him for you Lily, but until he is a little older...I don't think he will be receptive."

The woman could only offer a look that seemed defeated to her long time friend as she put both hands on her son's shoulders, "Well honey if I don't see you till Christmas study hard, and behave for our Lord."

Harry offered the woman a final smile as he embraced her and thanked the woman for his new shoes once again, and walked towards the fireplace to return home. It had been a better visit than his last, and he found himself actually looking forward to seeing his mother again for Christmas.

He found himself back in Slytherin Manor moments later taking a straight stroll towards his father's office. Harry of course knew that only the inner circle death eaters could possibly just be walking around the manor at any given time, and there was no way any lower rank death eater could be in the house without Harry being aware of it. His father always kept him in the know of who came through the house, for security reasons of course. Trying to shake off the strange feeling he had after leaving his mother's side he crossed the remaining distance quickly with desire to get his new wand eclipsing the excitement of his birthday or visiting his mother.

As Harry walked into the office his father looked up from his glasses as he was reading a story on the dark arts. Young Voldemort hadn't aged a day since that fateful night in Godric's Hollow, he still had the same straight dark hair and red eyes, his skin taking a handsome cream color. Bellatrix had once told him that he took some of his good looks from the mans magic, since his father was epitome of what a handsome pure blood stood for, "Good morning son, Happy Birthday. How was the visit with your mother?"

Harry bowed respectfully, "Thank you father, the visit was much better than my last"

Voldemort rolled his eyes, "As happy as I am to hear that how many times will I have to tell you not to bow to me. You are an heir to the Slytherin line now just like myself, and we bow to none."

"Of course, father, but I am bowing down in respect. Regulus tells me that respect is very important in magic. Until a day comes where I can match your power I don't think it is appropriate for me to stop my admission to your greatness." The boy said cheekily.

His father's eyes narrowed at the boy who sat there smiling innocently. After the man finally shook his head, Harry looked away, and focused on a newspaper nearby, "Is it true then?"

The newspaper was titled, Hogwarts forced to stumble on traditions due to constant threat of the Dark Lord. The Dark Lord grinned, "Indeed it is. It appears we have managed to scare the light away. Hogwarts will no longer be starting school for eleven-year old's, but thirteen."

Harry took a concentrated look to attempt to understand, "Uncle Lucius said you control the board of governors, right?"

The Dark Lord nodded watching the gears whirl in his son's head, "So you staged this in order to what? Keep students from learning to defend themselves at such a young age?"

Tom Riddle smiled at his heir, "Not quite, but that will be a nice addition. Now a question you will have to ask yourself is, what happens to the students of Hogwarts now? Those eleven-year old's who went to Hogwarts this year, or the twelve-year old's?"

"They will have to wait another year or more before they can go back to school?"

Lord Voldemort grinned like a mad man, "Close again. In order for Hogwarts to meet the new accommodations they are going to close for two years, in order to allow the students who attend now to adjust to a proper age."

Harry's eyes widened instantly, "You are trying to weaken the wards. If no students attend the school, then no one will be around to power the wards on a day to day basis. They will never recover to their proper power."

"Wisest words to ever come out of an eight-year old's mouth, my boy. Dumbledore wouldn't be able to find it in the budget to take the wards down and redo them, but very few people realize that. Plus, it throws a monkey wrench in just about every plan the Ministry and Hogwarts usually have. Fourth years will be able to perform magic outside of school, seventh years will be to the age of having possible children and getting married. Things are changing rapidly, and the death eaters in disguise are leading the charge."

Harry stared up at the man he considered his father in pure awe. The tactical mind of the Dark Lord always amazed him. This would not be a plan that he would act on for years, but by then it is almost a sure success. Voldemort had told Harry that he was ruling Magical Britain behind the curtains these days. When Harry asked he did it from afar Voldemort just shrugged and said something along the lines of, "If I took the office myself I would have to pave the starways in blood. This way the people think everything is normal, and only those in the positions of command really know who is in charge."

The words didn't really make much sense to Harry, but one day they would. The leader of the death eaters then spoke again, "But enough of the political talks. You can save that for Lucius' lesson tomorrow. After all, today is your birthday."

"Speaking of the Malfoys, I am surprised I was not awoken violently again by Draco, last year I remember he nearly gave me a heart attack."

The Dark Lord smiled fiendishly, "Yes I recalled these events. Therefore, I did not allow him access to your dormitory this morning when he came by with young Theodore Nott, I did not wish for either of them to end up in the hospital wing again."

Harry smirked mischievously, "But father, it would've been really funny!"

Tom Riddle shook his head in disbelief, "You were freaking out last year, you nearly stopped young Malfoys heart, you almost cried!"

Harry shrugged his shoulders, "But looking back on it now, it was hilarious was it not? Uncle Lucius was trying to decide whether to smack me or hug me from laughter or anger, it was rather funny."

The Dark Lord cracked a faint smile, "Enough of this talk. I say we head to Diagon Alley to pick up your wand and a few other small gifts perhaps, and then you can head off with Draco and Theodore. I am sure you three will find some way to get in trouble today, just please remember the death eaters will be rallying tonight so do not return home before ten."

Harry was trying hard not to bounce up and down with anticipation, "Of course father, I am ready to leave at a moment's notice."

The Dark Lord then took on a rather peculiar face yawning, "On second thought I do believe I am slightly tired, perhaps I will go take a nap and we can go to Diagon Alley a bit later in the afternoon."

Harry then took a pouting face, "But father you promised, when I woke up on my eighth birthday. and after the visit with my mother, you would take me to the Ally to get my first wand..."

Harry looked at his father with sadness when Voldemort then smiled evilly, "Of course I did promise, but remember I once told you promises are only made to be broken, goodnight son."

Harry then crossed his arms stubbornly, "I am not moving from this spot! You promised you would take me, and I will wait patiently right in front of you until you are ready, even if I have to stare at you while you sleep!"

Voldemort nodded, tilting back in his chair and snapping his fingers, "Then I will just remove that spot from the room. Good day my son"

He then flicked his wrist and the chair was banished backwards through the open door. AS soon as he crossed the threshold the doors slammed closed with a lock. Harry stared at the walls with disbelief. He then felt a sudden rush of anger and jumped up from his chair and ran towards the door and began banging on it, "DAD! LET ME IN! You promised!"

When no response came Harry growled and stared at the lock. Then he realized what was going on. His father was testing him, just like many times before. If he really wanted Harry out of his way he wouldn't have let him enter in the first place, or he would've put a small ward around the room, but no he simply locked the door.

Harry focused his magical core through his body and gently wrapped his hand around the door knob, alohomora.

The lock moved slightly, but not quite unlocked. This time with much more energy and power Harry slammed his hand on the door barking out the command, Alohomora!

This time the lock clicked, and the doors gently opened themselves. His father was suddenly walking past him, "Well no time to waste, I am a busy man and I must get to the alley and back."

Harry gawked at his father only for a split second and was about to rage at him when he realized that his father was already halfway to the floo! With a loud whoop Harry followed his father to the fire and immediately stepped in, "Diagon Alley!"

With a quick flush the boy shot through a portal like fire and landed straight on his butt, his father however was on his feet brushing the soot off of the suit that he always wore in public. To the world he was just Tom Riddle, but to Harry and many others who were constantly fighting a back alley war, he was Lord Voldemort. The public persona was that Tom Riddle married a distant cousin of the now nearly extinct line of the Lestranges and was cast out from his pure blood family which was the Malfoys. The public who Tom Riddle almost never appeared in could easily check his sources with both Rodolphus and Lucius who were the heads of their respective families. With two such powerful and influential families backing Tom no one ever checked into these facts. Harry was actually one of the few who knew his father's true origins. His father told him due to a rather drunk inner circle death eater calling Harry a filthy half-blood. The young boy had been terribly upset over the reminder that he was not truly his father's son, and Tom Riddle had made sure the one that caused his tears suffered terribly in vengeance. It was then the man explained that he himself had been born from a muggle, while his mother was a Gaunt, and an heir to Slytherin. It was from this Voldemort wanted to teach his son a lesson. Yes blood, and ancestry was important, but at the end of the day, power was everything. After that day, Harry took pride in being a half blood like his father, and no one would ever convince him it was something to look down upon.

Harry stood close to his father as they weaved in and out of the hundreds of people flocking to the alley. This was just a normal day in the making though for normal people, and yet still Harry did not expect that so many people would be there to return their Hogwarts things after the news had just broken today about the school not reopening for the fall Semester. As Harry watched the people bustle about he realized it was probably for the best that his father that the duo was able to blend in with the crowd. After all, while not everyone may recognize Tom and Harry Riddle it was always possible that one day someone would, and raise questions that they were willing to answer.

It took only a matter of minutes till they reached their intended destination and as Harry passed a young man who came out of the shop with his first real wand he immediately began taking deep breaths and let the anticipation well up inside him. His father was teaching him to keep his emotions intact, though at times like this it was exceedingly difficult. The Dark Lord had warned Harry that he must have it down before he entered Hogwarts, or he would not be allowed to go, whichgave Harry a very good reason to try his hardest.

The shop was just as many of Harry's older friends described, messy, yet somehow organized. Ollivander himself was a rather frail old looking man, with his crinkles and a smell that resembled something awfully close to shoe polish. Harry eyed the man with trepidation and excitement.

"Ah, aren't you a tad young for your first wand my boy? Normally Wizards don't come in until their eleventh birthday, how old are you?" Ollivander inquired.

Before Harry could speak his father interrupted, "Ollivander I have traveled far in hope for your expertise. I myself got my wand from Gregorovitch many years ago, but my family and friends all told me that you were simply the best. Now let me tell you I have made rather educated conclusions about my son, as a wand lore apprentice myself I have determined that he has stabilized his magical core, I have here permission from the Minister himself to allow my son to get a wand in order to help him control his accidental burst of magic, that have been rampaging our home and friends."

Ollivander examined the paper and then eyed Harry curiously making him stare at the man right back with an invigorating excitement. Ollivander nodded his head, "Very well, allow me to take some measurements and then we will begin a potentially very long process, or perhaps one that will only take a few minutes."

The wand maker took his appropriate measurements and then dug out three wands for Harry to try. All three resulted in something rather large breaking, so Ollivander repaired said items quickly looking interested, "How about we try something a little different. I am going to hand you three types of wood and you tell me which you feel the most comfortable with?"

Harry nodded his head and watched the wand maker bring him the three different woods. Among the three the blackthorn Harry felt was the furthest and the Holly wand was by far the best choice for him. Ollivander stared at Harry for a moment, but not at his eyes, but at his forehead. Harry knew the glamor's his father had cast on the scar was powerful, but at that particular moment, he felt that Ollivander could see right through it.

Without another word the famous old man swept behind the counter and went to the back room where Harry couldn't see him. His father who noticed the whole thing now and seemingly had his wand at the ready, as if he was preparing to strike down the man if necessary. When Ollivander returned he sat the wand down looking at Harry expectantly. Slowly the green eyed boy grabbed the box off the counter and took the wand from its concealment. He could tell it was the same type of wood that suited him best earlier, the Holly type. But the core itself felt powerful, so very powerful. Harry swirled his wand around in a circle and emerald green sparks flew from the wand and danced around the countertops. Harry would deny it many years later, but both men clearly heard the boy giggle with amusement.

Ollivander smiled at his work which had brought yet another child great happiness. The Dark Lord was even giving a rare smile to his son and asked, "What kind of core does the wand have?"

The old wand maker sighed with a sad smile, "I always thought this particular wand would go to a different young man. You see Mr. Riddle, this wand had a brother, a brother I once gave to a nameless young man many years ago. You must understand I only saw that brother wand once after that, and it was in the hands of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. It is curious that this young man would be destined for this particular wand. I assume you are familiar with the tales of the boy who lived young man?"

Ollivander was now pointing his inquiry at Harry who shrugged in response, "He is the only person to ever survive the killing curse. The Dark Lord supposedly shot the deathly green spell at him and if you believe the legends he absorbed the power of the curse and temporarily destroyed the Dark Lord. However, none of this was ever proven since no one has actually seen the Boy-Who-Lived since that night on Halloween."

Harry was told the story, he knew the boy was supposed to be him. What he didn't know yet was that the Dark Lord killed his father to give him the scar. He knew that his father had attempted to kill him in order to prevent a prophecy that predicted his downfall, but when his magic failed him, he saw a potential in Harry and let him live. When he checked in on Harry years and saw he was being mistreated by his relatives and instead of killing him he was marked as his equal and taken away in hope of changing the future. This story wasn't far from the truth, he just didn't know the true events of that Halloween night.

Ollivander nodded, "That is indeed likely. I always assumed the Boy-Who-Lived would one day claim that wand due to his connection to the Dark Lord, but it wasn't meant to be I suppose. I will expect great things from you Mr. Riddle, after all the Dark Lord did great things, horrible things, but great. The wand is powerful, and it will serve you well."

Harry smiled at his father who had a thoughtful look on his face, but then smiled at his son with pride. The underlying meaning to all this was that Harry and his father had a very deep connection in not only family, but in magic. Nothing pleased the Dark Lord more that this would be yet another symbol of their relationship that would stand the test of time.

As the two sorcerers walked out of the shop Harry nudged his father, "United in all but blood, just like you have told me for many years father."

The Dark Lord gave him a steady look, and roughed up his hair playfully, "I will admit you are right this time...my son. As the heir to Salazar Slytherin though I expected no less. Come now, you have a big day of celebration ahead of you, I will take you to see the Malfoys where you can spend the rest of the day with your friends. I will be by tonight to cut the cake and have dinner with you."

Harry took his wand in his again basking in the power of it when he asked, "And what of tomorrow father?"

The Dark Lord looked up to the sky seeing a future Harry didn't quite understand yet, "Tomorrow your true training begins."

(A/N) We are going to skip around the years for a while, until we get ready to enter Hogwarts. Please review and I hope you enjoyed chapter 3 of the Dark Lords Rising.