I'm Not A Hero

by DZ2

Why Should I Worry? Response: So, let's see if I understand: my name's Harry Potter. I'm a wizard, the only known survivor of an evil curse and, for that, you call me Saviour? Okay: just one question: where the frack have you so-called hero-worshippers been for the past ten years? Dark/Evil Super Harry/Carrows;

1. You Should Not Have Said That, Rubeus!

I'm Not A Hero: A Harry Potter Fanfiction

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its associated characters: all rights belong to JK Rowling. I do not own any crossover references used in the story: all rights belong to their original creators. I do own any OC spells explained at the end of a chapter.

Plot: Why Should I Worry? Response: So, let's see if I understand: my name's Harry Potter. I'm a wizard, the only known survivor of an evil curse and, for that, you call me Saviour? Okay: just one question: where the frack have you so-called hero-worshippers been for the past ten years?

Challenge Information: DZ2's 'Why Should I Worry?' Challenge: So, after ten years in Hell, Harry discovers he's a wizard, and that he's supposed to save the world? Why should he bother? Why should he care? What have they done for him lately?

Rules: Grey/Apathetic, Dark or Evil Harry

The story MUST start with Harry either being told he's a wizard, or he manages to read a letter before Vernon destroys it

When he learns of his Hero status, however, Harry laughs at the idea and decides he's going to be anything but a hero

How he achieves this is up to you, but the endgame is that Harry would sooner warm his feet as the world burns around him than save those who couldn't be bothered to help or care about him: selfish? Maybe. Does Harry care? No!

NOTHING can force him to be a hero: not romance, arguments, reasons for living, nothing!

All pairings are welcome

Guidelines: Super/OP Harry

Dark-Lord Harry

As a sign of true surrender, Harry asks Voldemort to go ahead and kill him

Harry sides with Voldemort, if only so he's left alone if/when the Dark Lord realises the secret of Harry's scar

Harry willingly sides with Voldemort as a Darksider, a Death Eater and/or Voldemort's heir/apprentice

Harry allows Voldemort to fulfil his goals

If/When Harry threatens to kill Sirius after learning 'the truth' about his godfather - meaning the truth as everyone else believes it to be in canon - he goes ahead with his threat, if only to show how much he is not a hero

Harry burns up any pictures of his parents, vandalises their trophies and even shreds, defaces and defecates on the Cloak, Map and other objects they 'passed/left' for him

After learning he's meant to be their hero, Harry changes his mind and decides he'd rather suffer in the Muggle World than go to Hogwarts

Any 'advantages' Harry is given as a hero is turned away, wrecked, abused (e.g. the broomstick in first year, his 'relationship' with the Minister and/or high-ups etc.)

Harry admits Petunia was right: his parents were freaks if they belonged to a world that couldn't care about an orphan who is meant to save them

Slash

Harems

Harry/Multi

As a sign of how anti-heroic he is, Harry demands payment for saving lives/what he did years ago, or other reasons he'd usually do for free

Because of his constant disrespect, Harry sets a new record for detentions, which impresses/intimidates even the Weasley Twins

The Twins are charged/targeted as thieves by Harry because they have what is his, not theirs to keep

Harry goes after those who've brought out Harry-Potter/Boy-Who-Lived memorabilia/books/other

When Snape compares Harry to James, he brushes it off, because he doesn't care

Harry creates a 'swear jar' that people have to put money into whenever they call him their hero/the BWL

Forbidden: Hero-Harry

Anyone or anything convincing Harry to be the hero

Harry accepting he's a hero or saviour

Other than that, it's up to you…

Author's Note: So, what else needs to be said about this one?

Enjoy…

Recommended Reads: Pray For The Wicked by Kapiushon, Monochrome by The BlackStaff and NightMarE, Harry Potter and the Perversion of Purity by ACI100, A Flaw in Fate by 521-DREAM, The Crimson Sorcerer by TwistedFilms, Hydrus Black, Dark Lord Potter, Apex and Silver King by JustBored21, Child of Azkaban by Fire and Starlight, Dying Light by Darkw01fe, Harry Potter and the Unwanted Ticket by Red Phoenix Dragon, The Rise of the Last Potter by HPfanfictioner66, Dark Prince, The Allure of Darkness and The Sealed Kingdom by LoveMyRomance, The Good Master by PeacefulCompassion and Serpent's Ascending by Madriddler

Key Pairing: Harry/Flora/Hestia

Other Pairings: To be determined

Normal Speech

'Thoughts'

/Parseltongue/

Chapter 1: You Should Not Have Said That, Rubeus!

Suffice to say, when the giant man named Hagrid informed Harry that he was a wizard, Harry didn't believe it.

When he found out that his oh-so-lovingly-normal family, the Dursleys had known about his magical abilities, only to try and, in their words, stamp it out of him, Harry really didn't believe it.

But when Hagrid went on to tell Harry the full story behind his identity, explaining about Dark Wizards with funny names, and a curse that nobody, but Harry was said to have survived, and then, to go on explaining that everyone knew Harry's name because of this feat, the now-eleven-year-old honestly felt just about ready to throw up his arms, cry out check please and book himself into the nearest funny farm, as the Dursleys always said he should have done.

There was absolutely no way that Harry was a…a hero…a Saviour…a celebrity among the masses.

He wasn't even worth mentioning in Little Whinging for Merlin's sake, not unless you counted all the nasty rumours and snide remarks when people thought he couldn't hear them.

'No,' thought Harry, even as he snuggled down under Hagrid's large coat, ignoring the wriggling feeling of the dormice that Hagrid had said were still in his pockets somewhere.

'There's no way this can be true…I mean, if I was famous and a celebrity and so revered, why have I been left with these…people?'

His eyelids drooped, his body sagged and his mind began to shut down, though not before he kept telling himself the same thing over and over.

'There's just no way…no way…no way…'

INAH

"Bless my soul…it's Harry Potter!"

"Welcome back, Mister Potter…welcome back!"

"Doris Crockford, Mr Potter! I can't believe I'm meeting you at last!"

"H-H-H-H-Harry…P-P-P-Potter! C-C-C-C-Can't tell you how p-p-p-pleased I am to meet you!"

Even as he was introduced to the unusually-strong stutter of Professor Quirrell – as Hagrid identified him – Harry felt his eyes widen, while his chest and his heart turned colder than cold as he found himself unable to escape the pointing fingers, whispering glances and the none-too-subtle movements of Doris Crockford, who seemed intent on nudging and brushing up against Harry every chance she got.

'I…I don't believe it!' thought Harry, even as he offered his hand to Professor Quirrell, 'They do see me as their celebrity…and all of them, especially this weird, creepy lady; they all think I just accept them getting so close to me! I don't believe it!'

"N-N-N-N-Not that you n-n-n-n-need it, e-e-e-eh, P-P-P-P-Potter?"

As Harry laughed, albeit rather weakly, at Professor Quirrell's joke about Defence Against the Dark Arts, his green eyes hardened in his face as he was led out of the dingy little pub, though not before Doris Crockford actually grabbed his hand, like she was afraid to let him go, before Hagrid finally got Harry out of there.

INAH

Out the back, however, as Harry was introduced to Diagon Alley, the young boy clenched and flexed the fingers of his tired hand, while he also felt his cheeks burn, as well as his heart, as something new welled up inside of him.

Anger.

Hatred.

Resentment.

Disbelief.

Outrage.

All of which, he found, were aimed at the Magical World, and the so-called hero-worshippers who seemed to think it was all okay to leave him alone for ten years, and then crowd him as though the Queen herself had come to town, if not someone of equal fame and standing.

As Hagrid began leading Harry down the street, the young boy looked to his clenched hand, a small part of him vowing that he'd scrub his hands bloody if he had to, just as long as it meant he could be rid of the sickly feeling and smell of whatever hand lotion Doris Crockford used. At the same time, however, he made another promise.

One that, although he didn't know it yet, would shape Harry's destiny from then on.

In ways nobody wanted, much less thought would be possible, even for an eleven-year-old boy whom was an orphan raised by magic-hating Muggles for as long as Harry James Potter had been.

Yeah, who would ever believe someone like that, who'd gone through what Harry had gone through, could ever make the following promise?

'I will never be their hero; even if it means that the rumours of Voldemort's not-quite-dead state aren't rumours, I don't care. This whole fucking world can burn for all I care: why should I be any sort of hero to people who left me to be driven to near-death state myself time and time again?'

As they neared the far end of the Alley, Harry made his vow known, even if only to himself.

'Well, I swear it, on the graves and whatever else my parents had: I will be whatever I want to be, but, until the day I die, I promise…it will never be to be their hero! I'm not a hero; I don't want to be a hero and if anyone tries to make me one, I promise…I will make them pay!'

INAH

Nearby, as Harry made his vow, pouring all the negative emotions he could into it, his rage suddenly caused the windows of the Magical Menagerie to shatter, sending animals racing all over the Alley, leaving chaos in their wake.

Harry, however, only had one thought on his mind.

One thought…one promise…made by one boy who, even long before he became what he chose to be, knew the truth of it.

He had nothing to prove.

Nothing to lose.

And everything to gain.

And he was going to do that his way.

And, one thing was certain: his way?

It was not the hero's way…

INAH

One Month Later

"Oi! Get up you lazy sons of bitches!"

As Vernon and Petunia tumbled out of bed, having been reminded of the horror that had once again darkened their doorsteps ever since the day that giant freak had come to the hut on the rock, the thin woman actually flinched when the same voice called out to them.

"Since I'm sure that I just heard a few roof slates fall down, I assume you're up, so…get a move on, you useless freaks of nature! You've got ten minutes to get downstairs and make my breakfast! Then, while I'm eating, you can get started on packing my things into that joke of a car before, once I'm done, we're going to head off to London: make it wrong or make me late and I swear to you. Your lives will not be worth living, not that those things you call lives ever meant anything to people like me!"

With that, the sound of footsteps left the Dursleys sharing terrified looks, while Petunia also grabbed her gown and a pair of slippers as she felt her heart turn to ice at the realisation that crossed her mind.

Once again, these freaks had screwed her family dynamic and, once again, one of their lot had become the alpha male of the household.

But what choice did Petunia have, other than to obey him?

Especially since she knew he was not kidding around about making them suffer.

Her rising costs of hospital bills, courtesy of the reminder that the little hellion had given her and Vernon after the giant freak had left him to torment them further, only sought to remind her of what their lot were capable of when they wanted something. And, unfortunately for her, the alpha of Privet Drive had ten years' worth of hatred and dark thoughts to work on.

So, as far as he was concerned, the act of leaving Dudley a vegetable as he had done – calling it a test of his new powers, apparently – with the promise to restore him to full health if they obeyed, was only the tip of the iceberg for him.

Especially since Petunia also knew that not even Death, or something worse, could claim her nephew.

Why else was he known as the Freak-Who-Lived to their lot?

INAH

It was only thanks to what his newfound courage, as well as demands of power over the weak, the frail and the freakish – also known as his loving family, the Dursleys – that Harry didn't make the mistake of looking like a moron when he walked straight through the barrier between worlds, leaving the Muggle World behind for the Magical World.

As he passed through, however, a scowl crossed the boy's face when he thought he heard an obnoxiously-loud, tactlessly-overbearing voice call out from the Muggle side of the world.

"IT'S THE SAME EVERY YEAR, PACKED WITH MUGGLES…"

Fortunately, the barrier swallowed Harry up before he had a chance to be caught in a trap by the clearly-braindead owner of the world's most-tactless loudspeaker.

Though not before he made a mental note to never have anything to do with whoever, or whatever, was responsible for that cry.

INAH

"Excuse me?"

Looking up from his musings, Harry saw a gangly-looking redhead standing in the doorway to his compartment, a nervous, if not timid look on his face as he asked, "Sorry…do you mind? Everywhere else is full."

Scoffing in response, Harry turned to the window, his eyes darkening as he asked, "Seriously? That's the best pile of BS you could come up with in the hopes of getting close to me, is it? I've seen burning buildings with more tact than that, you overcompensating moron!"

The redhead fumed, before Harry scoffed, "And now you're going to rant about your lie, expecting me to believe it the more you repeat it; then, when you fail, you'll make some pathetic remark about some kind of dark-aligned creature and walk off in a huff. Personally, I give you one hour before you come crawling back, realising you need to be close to me because, without the bullshit behind my popularity, you're nothing, but an insect…a useless, one-legged insect, who deserves to be squashed, or eaten, and quickly!"

"You…you…you're not…you can't be…no way…not some Dark Wizard…"

"And there's the pulp-brained hypocrisy of your ass-backwards world; congratulations, loser. You've got the full set…now, be a doll and piss off!"

Slamming the door, the redhead stormed off.

Harry, meanwhile, reached into a cage, where he stroked the soft, dark-coloured fur of a British Shorthair cat – despite Hagrid's insistence on him having a snowy owl, not that Harry needed such a thing – who purred softly as she nuzzled her master's fingers and lapped at the tips obediently.

"Don't you worry, Hedwig; next time that idiot comes knocking, I'll feed you the rat I saw poking its tail out of his worn-out pocket. Let's see if watching you massacre his wrong choice of pet gets the message: Harry Potter is not for sale!"

The cat, Hedwig – a name that Harry had found in A History of Magic – meowed and licked her lips hungrily, earning a cold laugh from Harry.

"Good point, girl; I'm getting hungry too…wonder if there are any refreshments available on this beautiful vehicle?"

INAH

"Have you seen a toad? A boy named Neville's lost one."

"Check my cat's faeces," drawled Harry, earning a horrified look from the bossy-sounding brunette, who'd barged into his compartment without even bothering to knock – and, worse, she hadn't been the first, much less the latest since the redhead had come back four times since then, though, rather suspiciously, without his rat – while Harry ran a hand softly along Hedwig's furry belly as she purred at her master's affectionate touch.

"Mind you, I don't think you have dropped your guts lately, have you, my beautiful girl? So maybe the rude, arrogant prat with the phobia of hairbrushes has to check the nice bump in your tummy, see if it hops and croaks, what do you…think?"

He trailed off before saying the last word when, after looking up, he saw the brunette had gone, earning a scoff from Harry.

"So…I'm guessing she's never heard of sarcasm? Ah well; another Ice Mouse, Hedwig? Or perhaps you'd like another yummy Chocolate Frog to hunt and disembowel instead? Just remember not to eat the card, okay?"

INAH

"There's a rumour…"

"I don't care," said Harry, slamming the door in the face of a blond-haired boy who, despite his willingness to at least knock on Harry's door, had also done so when Harry was busy putting the finishing touches to his robe, as well as making sure Hedwig was nicely-groomed and had enough food in her belly to last her the night.

As he finished tying off his robe, Harry heard another knock at the door, which was his cue to turn and open it, only to find said blond still standing there, a look of actual amusement on his face as he drawled, "Well, at least you've got some fire in your belly, friend. I've had to mention it to almost every damn Mudblood, blood traitor and useless Squibling on this tub, and every one of them has reacted like a bunch of pathetic Weasels…and don't get me started on how they reacted."

"So…you were…what? Testing me?" asked Harry casually, leaning against the doorframe, his arms folded as he cocked an eyebrow at the blond.

"I suppose you could say that," replied the blond, indicating the two large boys with him, both of whom made Harry think of the vegetable, while Harry also saw the blond's lips twitch in amusement as he added, "So, if you'll allow me to start over: may I introduce Heirs Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle, though they both prefer to go by their last names. Something about making an impact on someone or other; I don't know…"

"And I told you, I don't care," drawled Harry, earning a raised eyebrow from the blond at the actual drawl that laced Harry's words, before the emerald-eyed scion asked, "And you? I'm guessing another Heir, so…Heir Who?"

"Malfoy," replied the blond, a note of impressed emotion in his voice as he held a hand out to Harry, "Heir Draco Malfoy, Son of Governor and Lord Lucius Malfoy and Lady Narcissa Malfoy nee Black."

"A pleasure, Heir Malfoy," replied Harry coolly, taking Draco's hand before he clenched it tightly, earning a slight wince from the blond as Harry added in a cold, almost-icy tone, "My name is Heir Harrison James Potter-Black, Son of a Dead Man and a Dead Woman, neither of whom are here and both of whom are just worm food…got it?"

Whether it was the Black reference, or the ice in Harry's voice, Draco didn't know.

But he nodded regardless, his eyes squinting in discomfort as he gasped, "I…I…I'm honoured to…to make you…your acquaintance, Heir Potter-Black…ah! Please! My…my hand?"

"Of course," said Harry, releasing Draco's hand.

While Draco flexed and shook his hand in a bid to get the blood flowing again, he smiled suddenly as he looked up at Harry before he scoffed.

"You were testing me, weren't you? Because of your identity?"

"Correct…whether or not you passed, Heir Malfoy, remains to be seen; see you in the Sorting."

"And you, Heir Potter-Black," said Draco, before he slid his hand into his pocket, if only so nobody would see it tremble from the strength of Harry's vice-like grip, as well as the emotions going to war inside of Draco as he added, "Maybe we'll be roommates."

"We'll see."

"Boys?" asked Draco, leading Crabbe and Goyle away from Harry's compartment, while Harry closed the door slowly, before he turned and smiled as he heard Hedwig mew curiously.

"Well, what do you know, Beautiful? I think I've actually just made a new friend…here's hoping he's not secretly one of these pricks, because it'd be a real shame to have to waste such perfectly-good magic on something as trivial as his re-education about being something he's not to someone who is something I am never going to be, don't you think?"

Hedwig started purring.

INAH

"Firs' years, over 'ere, please!"

"Oh, great! This idiot again," drawled Harry, lowering his eyes, and his head, before he actually closed his eyes, willing himself to remain invisible to Hagrid's clearly-searching gaze, judging by how Harry could see him eyeing the first-years with an almost-lecherous air about him.

'Look all you want, servant!' thought Harry darkly, smiling as he made to follow the first-years, albeit from the back of the group, as he made his way into Hogwarts.

'But, at the end of the day, you're going to really regret being such a tactless twit who is the whole reason I made my promise to begin with!'

Or, to put it another way…

You really should not have said that, Rubeus!

INAH

"Potter, Harry?"

After a nauseatingly-long wait, as well as a speech that was so well-rehearsed that Harry could actually imagine an autocue in front of the woman who gave it, at long last, Harry's name was called out for the Sorting.

However, when he went to step forwards, he smirked inwardly when he heard Professor McGonagall address him, "Excuse me, young man! I don't remember calling out your name: please return to your spot while we wait for Mr…"

That was the cue Harry chose to reveal the reason Hagrid hadn't seen him; for while the giant had scanned the crowd so determinedly, he had also overlooked an auburn-haired boy with his head down, as well as a proud, pointed facial structure and eyes that were the eeriest shade of blue that it could have been possible to show.

Even the others accompanying said youth across the lake – some dark-skinned boy who'd looked at Harry curiously, before winking, as though he knew what was going on, along with a mousey-haired boy with an Irish brogue and a dirty-blonde-haired girl with large teeth who'd been one of the first to be sorted, and into Hufflepuff at that – hadn't seem to notice that their celebrity was in their midst.

But now, the auburn hair became wild and untameable; the proud, pointed feature became more dense and normal-looking, while Harry also looked up, his eeriest-blue eyes turning back to the same shade of green that Harry remembered from his research.

Just for kicks, he even put his lightning-bolt scar back on his head, earning another alarmed look from McGonagall as Harry asked, "Potter, right? Well, that's me, Professor McGonagall; the one and only."

"You…you're…you're a Metamorphmagus?" asked a Cockney-slang-tinged voice from the Hufflepuff Table; when Harry looked over, he saw a bubblegum-pink-haired girl who had a dumbfounded look on her face, and a pair of badges – one saying Head Girl while the other said Quidditch Captain – fixed to her robes.

"I am," said Harry, flashing the girl a smile, before he added, "House points to Hufflepuff for noticing I…ahh, I see; that's why."

As he spoke, the girl's hair turned red with shame, while she also seemed to become meek and mousey, even in appearance, earning a scoff from Harry as he asked, "You're not trained, then? And you're…what? Six? Seven years older than me: and here I thought I was in a school?"

Suddenly, the girl's hair turned red with rage, before she growled, "Watch it, brat!"

"You first, freak!" growled Harry, earning a horrified look from the girl, before he scoffed as he added, "Merlin's beard, whatever House that is, I hope I don't go there…and, on that note, shall we?"

With that, he sat under the hat.

However, it barely touched his hairline, before the Sorting Hat's voice cried out, almost in fear, if not desperation;

"SLYTHERIN!"

"As if it could have been anywhere else?" asked Harry.

As he walked to the Slytherin Table, however, the only applause came from Malfoy and his boys, as well as a couple of others on the Slytherin Table.

As for the rest of the hall, it exploded into roars of outrage.

"LIAR!"

"TRAITOR!"

"HE DOESN'T DESERVE TO BE HERE!"

"HE'S A MONSTER!"

"HE'S NOT A HERO!"

"Thank you for that," said Harry, looking to his peers, before he smiled broadly as he sat down at the Slytherin Table. "You're absolutely right, whoever that last one was…I am not a hero, so, again, as if my sorting could have ended up bringing me anywhere, but here, where true friends and real wizards belong, not feckless, fair-weather friends who only care about something when it matters to them!"

"Hear, hear," agreed Draco, earning a faint smile from Harry, while the blond actually offered his hand to Harry once more as he added, "So, let me say it again: welcome to Slytherin, Heir Potter-Black."

"Nice to be here, Heir Malfoy," replied Harry, shaking Draco's hand firmly – though, to Draco's relief, not as firmly as he had done on the train.

"Now, let the games begin."

Wow, talk about one moment changing everything, but I'm sure I'm not the only one wondering what happened between Harry making his vow and the Dursleys finding themselves in Hell?

Where did Harry's darker nature come from?

How is he aware of his status as a Black, and Heir Black at that, and how did he learn about his abilities, his power and even his Metamorphmagus state?

Keep Reading to Find Out

Next Chapter: Harry makes himself at home, while Draco tries to get at least one answer out of his distant relative and future House Lord; also, speaking of answers, three guesses who else wants some: shame the only one he can ask is a drunken oaf who thinks giant spiders are fluffy bunnies;

Please Read and Review