The Experience
The short battle with the troll had been exhilarating. Fighting a magical creature that fought back and drew blood had drawn out something Harry had kept supressed for too long.
He had been on his way back to his common room when he had heard a roar and a scream. Curious, he navigated towards the din and stumbled upon the sight of a humanoid creature with green skin, a long face with droopy eyes and mouth with thick purple lips half open. It was wearing a loincloth and a jacket that looked like it was made from animal skin; holding a big wooden club in thick meaty hands that looked like it had been awkwardly carved and decorated with thorns. The lethal club was pursuing a screaming and scrambling girl in an effort to crush her into paste. Harry recognised her as Hermione Granger.
The void bubbled. There was a living being before them and it was attacking a student. His instinct told him there would be no trouble if he unleashed the void at the Troll. At last, an opportunity to kill with the void! He didn't need words to scream his intent. He weaved his wand and with a feral grin cast a bone breaking curse towards the troll.
To his shock, the curse simply splashed against the beast. It frowned and looked around, as if looking for a mosquito or a fly. The creature, which Harry now recognised as a Troll spotted Harry and glared at him stupidly.
Harry grinned. His eyes danced with bloodlust. He raised his wand with a dramatic flourish and pushed the void out of his wand with greater will. The intent was to melt the skin of his target and this time the curse made the Troll jump in pain. The skin around his shoulder where the curse hit looked like the troll had got mildly burnt.
The troll roared and lumbered towards Harry with its club raised.
Harry pulled at the void, expelling it towards the troll with the intent of stopping it in its tracks.
It worked.
Unfortunately, the troll swung the club down and shattered the floor along with Harry's concentration. A broken tile screamed past his face and cut a thin line of skin on his neck.
It roared again and stumbled forward as the void lost its hold on it.
Harry, quick as a cat, rolled away from the path of the club and stood up and ran past the troll. He skidded to a halt facing the back of the beast and remembered about the cutting hex he had read about.
There was a smile on his face and the feeling of blood pumping through his veins was making him excited. He felt the cut on his neck sting and his desire to kill the Troll seduced his senses.
He quickly ran through the necessary wand movements before the troll could turn around. A glowing silver rope sprang out of his wand and wrapped itself around the troll's neck.
Harry immediately felt a powerful pull on the void as the troll roared and tried to break free of the noose. He grunted in exertion and focused on the void. There was a connection between the spell and him and suddenly it became a battle of wills between the troll and him. He felt as if he were trying to crush a mountain. His will was the wind, an unstoppable flow that only got stronger if denied movement. He pushed more of the void, more than ever before, into the spell and envisioned the mountain made of sand.
It happened almost instantaneously. One minute Harry was panting, his mind under severe strain, pouring all of his power into the spell, and the Troll choking, it's hands pulling against the rope, it's eyes bulging. It stumbled and hit the wall, struggling for air and suddenly, the silver rope cut through troll skin and the troll stopped making noises. Its body shuddered and with a disgusting squelch, the head detached and fell to the ground with a thud.
Hermione retched.
Still high on the adrenaline of a great battle, Harry turned wide and excited eyes towards the Gryffindor girl. The void, in celebration, urged him to kill her too.
Harry grinned maliciously and took a step toward the girl. Hermione, who was recovering her senses, froze in terror once again.
Fortunately, the sound of running footsteps made the void retreat and Harry's insane delight reverted back to his stoic mask.
Hermione trembled.
It was that scene that McGonagall and Snape stumbled onto. A corridor cracked, a bathroom in ruins, two part Troll oozing green blood all over the floor, and Harry Potter, standing with his wand out, as cool as you like, with an unreadable expression on his pale face.
"Oh my word!" gasped McGonagall and quickly rushed towards Hermione who was still cowering near the shattered sinks with glazed eyes staring at nothing. "She's in shock!" McGonagall exclaimed. She conjured a stretcher out of thin air and Harry raised an eye in interest. That was an interesting spell. Not to mention she had instantaneously combined it with a levitating charm.
Following that Snape questioned Harry and Harry replied with silence. Fifteen minutes later Snape was ready to murder Harry and his temper was contained when Dumbledore showed up looking tried. Dumbledore swept his eyes across the hall, healed the cut on Harry's neck and politely asked Snape what happened. Snape explained while throwing in some nasty comments which Harry ignored. After half an hour of being examined under a microscope Dumbledore finally let Harry go.
The one thing Harry took away from the encounter was, that during those three minutes of fighting with Death on the cards, he was truly, absolutely alive.
It was his first step to a dream that was to become his obsession. A dream that would bring Magical London to its knees.
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The next day, after a sleep plagued by screams and half remembered dreams, Harry woke up feeling more irritable than usual.
When Daphne came to his side, his irritation spiked. Usually he would tolerate her presence but today he was feeling on the edge. He was missing the thrill of a magical fight. He was almost in withdrawal.
His memory of killing Petunia and the troll were cycling in his mind. There was an urge in him. An urge to hurt someone or something! Watching all the students around him make such poor use of their magical powers made him more irritated. He couldn't stand the fact that wizards and witches took their gifts for granted!
He breezed through classes and not one single student sat near him the entire day. Apparently his mood was being broadcasted and even Daphne stayed away from him. It was only at the end of the day when Harry routinely made his way to the library that Daphne joined him.
"Hey Harry. So what's on the study agenda today? More research on Dark Magic?"
Harry didn't reply.
Daphne peeked into the book he was reading and was pleasantly surprised to see it was about the elements. The book next was about dangerous magical creatures.
"Got bored of Dark Arts did you?"
Harry ignored her.
"I've got an offer you're going to love and accept."
Daphne almost heard Harry's jaws grind against each other.
"Draco wants to challenge you to a duel!" she said quickly.
Harry went still and then slowly turned his head and looked into Daphne's eyes curiously. "What?"
"A duel."
"You mean a fight?" His heart beat in anticipation. Was killing allowed in a duel?
"Yes," Daphne said impatiently.
"Why?"
"I made a bet with him," she said quickly. She sensed the disinterest in his voice and had to rectify that quick! "I bet if he lost that we could go to his home and visit his library! It's full of rare books on dark arts and obscure magic! I guarantee you'll love it. What do you say, Harry? Help me wipe that smirk of Draco's face will you?"
She was almost pleading with him and Harry was oblivious to it. "It has books not here? Books on dark magic?"
"They can't be found anywhere else in the world!" Daphne exclaimed.
Harry shrugged. "Okay," he said and turned back to his book. Daphne didn't know it but the void was in debate inside Harry. If he was being challenged to a fight, would Dumbledore be upset if he killed the student challenging him?
Daphne on the other hand visibly looked relived. It would not look good for her if Harry had refused.
"Never betray your true colours to anyone ever Daph. Not even your closest friends nor your lover. Secrets cannot be called secrets if more than one knows about it."
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Turning back the clock
"Quickly Quirrell!"
A weak, high pitched voice hissed as Professor Quirrell hurried through the corridors of Hogwarts with determined purpose. His Master's goal was almost within his reach.
He reached the third floor corridor and with a flick of his wand, he slammed open the door. There was no obstacle that Dumbledore could throw in his path that he couldn't get past.
The obstacle that stood in his way, however, was not what he expected. It was Dumbledore himself.
"Good evening Tom," said the most powerful wizard in the world. He was standing on a trap door; blocking Quirrell's way to what the Defence against the Dark Arts professor knew was the way to the Alchemist's stone.
"No!" Quirrell gasped. "How did you know? Forgive me Master!"
"Run you fool! Run!"
But there was nowhere to run. The door had shut silently and there was no escape unless he took down Dumbledore.
"I will not let you capture my Master," Quirrell hissed. "You will not win Dumble-!"
Quirrell suddenly gasped and lost his voice. Dumbledore had raised his wand and frozen the mad man.
"I will extract you Tom," Dumbledore boomed, "just like the venom from a snake. Surrender now and prevent yourself the pain of having your soul trapped for eternity."
A black mist began to rise from the back of Quirrell's head and the hapless professor began to twitch.
Dumbledore slashed his wand down and the mist halted in its track. An invisible force was pulling it towards Dumbledore.
"You will not have me Dumbledore!"
Suddenly the mist shot back into Quirrell and Dumbledore staggered back as if hit in the gut by a powerful punch.
Lord Voldemort accessed the magical core of Quirrell to greatly amplify his powers for a moment. They came a great cost but he had no choice.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!"
With agility beyond his years, Dumbledore broke the connection his magic had with Quirrell and dove out of the way. He felt the hiss of foul dark magic speed past his ear and when he fell to the ground with a thump, Quirrell began to disintegrate. Dumbledore didn't notice the weak shimmer in the air that wavered towards the ceiling and disappeared.
He sprang to his feet, eyes sharp and searching but there was no trace of Voldemort. The dark lord had escaped his grasp once again.
"You will meet your end Tom," Dumbledore said softly, eyeing the dust that was once Quirrell sadly. "I can only hope to reduce the collateral until that day."
"Your end will come Tom. It will…. I swear it will!"