I do not own Harry Potter, the Wizarding World, or any canon characters.
Cast out of England for reasons unknown, Harry adopts a Dark Lady as a child. He was then brought back to England against his will,
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Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the Founder of the Order of the Phoenix, the one wizard Lord Voldemort ever feared, stopped in mid sentence. His normally sanguine expression faded, replaced with caution, then apprehension.
"Albus?" Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts, looked at her friend with concern. "What's wrong?"
"Something comes," Dumbledore whispered, staring through the walls of the castle.
"Is it Him?" Kingsley Shacklebolt, Senior Auror, asked.
"No," Albus said wondering. "Someone else. Someone...different."
The stones of the castle trembled. A low sound was heard, rising in tone and intensity. The very air seemed to recoil from immense pressure and the sound reached a fever pitch, turning into a wail.
"What on earth is that?" Shacklebolt yelled.
"The wards," Dumbledore shouted back. "They're warning us of approaching danger!"
"I've never heard them do that before!" McGonagall shrieked.
The sound reached a crescendo before shattering. The silence that followed was somehow louder than the warning siren. It was the silence before a storm, a promise of impending doom. It was the warning before the crash of thunder and the flash of lightning.
It was warning and promise all in one.
A knock was heard. The sound of something hitting the gates of Hogwarts. Despite them being so far away from the front door, the knock was audible. It was crystal clear. It could be felt, not just heard.
The professors and the Aurors ran to the front door of the school. As they ran the knock repeated again and again, as steady as a metronome's beat. It thudded painfully, shaking heart and bone.
Dumbledore stopped at the closed doors and with a gesture they opened.
No one was prepared to see the young woman who stood at the entrance.
She was a slight thing, petite and svelte. She wore a light dress, emerald green edged in grey. Her skin was marble pale and her hair midnight black. Her eyes were large, a startling blue. She looked at the assembled adults without expression.
"Where is he?" she asked. Her voice was musical, a foreign accent tinged the words but she spoke clearly.
"Who are you looking for?" Dumbledore asked. Outwardly he was calm. Inwardly he was not. His senses screamed at him. They told him that this girl was not what she seemed. That she was the greatest danger he had ever encountered, including Grindelwald and Voldemort.
"My father. Where is he?"
"I don't know who your father is," he said pleasantly.
"Do not lie to me," she said. Her voice began to change ever so slightly. Taking color, taking heat. "I feel his magic on you. You have encountered him recently. I want my father."
Dumbledore tried to think back of all the wizards he had met recently. "I'm afraid that I don't know who you're referring to."
"You are not."
"I beg your pardon?"
"You are not afraid. Yet."
Dumbledore's blood chilled.
"If you continue to keep my father from me, you will be afraid. Where. Is. He?"
"How dare you talk to him like that?" John Dawlish, Auror, stepped forward and sneered. "Show some proper respect to the greatest wizard in the world." He raised his wand.
Before Dumbledore could stop him, before he could shout a warning, before he could defuse the situation, the girl looked at the Auror.
Dawlish fell over, dead.
Everyone gasped. There had been no incantation, no warning, no visible movement from the girl. There was the briefest flicker of intense magic and the accomplished Auror fell over devoid of life.
"I will kill everyone in this castle," the girl said. Her blue eyes darkened, the bright blue turning inky black. "I will shred every soul within these stones if I do not get my father back. This is your only warning."
Her voice deepened, echoing weirdly upon itself. It was as if there were many speakers saying the same words slightly out of sync. "I. Want. My. Father."
Her hair moved and everyone gasped as they saw the lightning bolt scar on her forehead, one they are familiar with but on someone else entirely.
"That's...Potter's scar," McGonagall said weakly. "How do you have the same scar?"
"I carved it with my own hand, to show our bond." She ignored the gasps. "So you do know my father. Where is he?"
"You can't be his daughter!" Filius Flitwick, Charms Master, gasped as the girl stared at him. "He's too young to be a father of someone your age!"
"He adopted me. He cared for. He loved me. My only regret is that my blood is not his." Her eyes lightened ever so slightly. Her face warmed as she thought of Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, her beloved father. Then the warmth was gone, replaced by icy rage. Her eyes darkened once again into nightmare black. "You took him from me. You made him come back to where he was cast out. I want him back. Do not waste my time."
She threw something and people gasped as the head of a snake and a silver skull mask clattered to the ground in front of them. Both things were still wet with blood. "They made the mistake of misleading me. I tire of this. I want my father back."
"He's in Azkaban!" Shacklebolt said in a rush, panicked.
Her face became even colder. "What crime has he committed to be placed there?"
"He was reluctant in aiding us, the Minister thought that he would be convinced after being put there for some time," Dumbledore said reluctantly.
"His only crime, was that he was reluctant to help those that hurt him?" Her voice was a whisper now, "You've...tortured my father?"
"It was not my decision-" Dumbledore began.
Her shriek of rage split the air. Everyone stumbled from the force of her voice. She rose in the air and she howled. "I will have my vengeance on all of you! You dare hurt my father?! The one who saved me?! None will save you from me!" She disappeared in a crack of thunder, leaving silence and fear behind her.
Hours later Shacklebolt spoke to Dumbledore. "Azkaban is gone."
"What do you mean gone?"
"I mean it's gone. The whole island. It was destroyed down to the seabed. The Dementors were obliterated. The prisoners slaughtered. The Ministry personnel..." he gulped, "made an example of. There was only one survivor. He said that Harry Potter was taken away by a girl and he was left alive to pass a message."
Dumbledore felt his heart quiver. "And the message?"
"She said when she returns, she will make everyone responsible for Harry's pain suffer the same a thousand times over. She said we will learn what a true Dark Lady is."
"Merlin help us all."
Shacklebolt shook his head. "I don't think even Merlin could stand up to her. We really messed up Albus."
"And we're to pay for it," Dumbledore said quietly.