A VERY Bad Day
The Beginning of The End
1st October 1981. Gibraltar.
The thunderstorm raged above their heads without an end visible. It was borne out of the daunting magic their battle had unleashed. Better yet, it was an apt description of the sheer hatred the two felt for each other. A nigh decade of subterfuge, espionage, terrorism, counterterrorism, and open battle had led to this moment. The sheer hatred between the two grew to such heights that one day they had mutually converged upon a location and started fighting without saying a word.
Dumbledore had lost precious people in his fight against Voldemort. Students, past lovers, and people he saw as his literal children. He hated Voldemort for what he had forced him to become. Stunners and transfiguration were simply not enough to deter Death Eaters. Dumbledore had been forced to tap into the part of himself that not even Gellert Grindelwald had succeeded in making him do so. Dumbledore had tainted his soul by killing Death Eaters. Following his example, the Order of Phoenix too had thrown the gauntlet against the Death Eaters openly started using the unforgivable curses.
Voldemort despised for the numerous defeats the old man forced upon him. He had completely blown apart the Dark Lord's timeline for the capture of Britain and then inevitably. All the grand designs of a global empire had been thrown into mud. Countless talented Death Eaters had died at the hands of the Order. Cassiopeia Black, Regulus Black, Malfoy Elder, and more. The crème de la crème of his organization was now dead. Whispers had now begun of mutiny against a lord that couldn't even defeat an aged headmaster.
The two mutually agreed it was time to put it all on the line and end it all.
Unfortunately for Dumbledore, this battle would prove his greatest and final folly. The wizened headmaster was simply not spry enough to dodge Voldemort. He also could neither summon nor control the sheer raw magic that Voldemort could on account of his age. Time after time, Voldemort unleashed bone breakers, flaying curses, snapping jinxes, and the killing curse. Dumbledore too old to dodge, was forced to summon ever elaborate transfiguration constructs and shields to defend himself. He was getting tired. They both knew it. Soon Dumbledore would make a mistake and it would all be over.
Through gritted teeth Dumbledore summoned a shield of pure bronze as a pale deathly light summoned by Voldemort crashed against. It caused a massive gong-like sound to echo throughout the area. Dumbledore felt his ears bleeding and jumped with the last vestiges of his strength to dodge another curse headed his way. He couldn't make it far enough and the curse hit his wand arm, cleaving it completely.
A fountain of blood poured of the stump and Dumbledore felt the light his eyes alongside his body. This was it. Voldemort marched up to him in bloody tattered robes with gushing wounds of his own. No monologues, no victory speeches, or gloating were said by him, such was his fury. He simply levelled his wand at Dumbledore's face and whispered,
"Avada KaDevra" Dumbledore instantly stopped moving and fell dead.
He raised his wand up at the stormy sky and roared, "Morsmordre!"
A glinting skull lit the knight sky. Let all witness his victory. Let none deny his mastery of the isles anymore.
3rd October 1981. London.
Whenever James walked through the cemetery of the Potter manor, he always felt like he was unwelcome. As if the spirits of the Potter dead condemned him and no longer welcomed him to the fold. To them James had only one thing to say,
Fuck you.
Everything he had done. He had done for the survival of Lily and House Potter. All the kids he had bullied, had stood in his way. In his goals. Whether it be competition for the seeker position, headboy, or Lily's hand. He had bulldozed them all.
Whatever dark rituals he and Lily had done to increase their strength, speed, agility, and reflexes – they had done to better adept at the arts of war and survive.
Whatever financial moves he had undertaken to steal gold from orphans, cut wages and corners, and intiate hostile take overs – all had been done to fill up the Potter coffins on par with the Blacks, Malfoys, and Greengrass.
For far too long he had lived under the writ of his parents, hell-bent on dictating every move of his life. Constantly keeping him under a microscope. If it wasn't that, it was then the Black cousins who kept constantly barging in his life.
The only taste of freedom he had received was when he attended Hogwarts.
But above all, he had met Lily there. Sweet, glorious Lily. The Sun to his moon. The light to his existential angst. The Lilith to his Caine.
She was the one who had opened his eyes to the truth of the world. The simple truth that so many oh so brilliant men and women of the world ignored. There were lions and there were sheep. The lions ate the sheep and ruled the world. She was the one who recognized the sheer talent within him. While others spent hours chanting spells and doing the appropriate swishes and flicks – James mastered the content within a few minutes. He was quickly bored with school life in general despite the Marauders best attempt to cheer him up.
Lily had approached him one night in the cover of darkness. She took him hand in hand, tucked under his cloak to the forbidden forest. The night Lily had shown him a side of magic that he had never thought of in his wildest dreams. It was almost orgasmic.
The power of the dark side.
Since that day both had sworn to each other to pursue power by whatever means necessary. They would neither falter nor hesitate. Together and only together would they take everything and give nothing back. They would be the sole lions in a world of sheep.
The journey since then hadn't been tough and James scowled angrily as the bitter prospect of defeat curled up inside him. No matter what they did, Voldemort was simply a threat beyond them. Now with Dumbledore gone, the Order of Phoenix was all but dead.
Britain belonged to Voldemort now. There were no two ways about that. Lily was going to die. Their twins, Edward and Victoria would die. He would die. House Potter would be extinct and there was nothing he could do about it.
Unless he glanced at the report clenched in his fist….. there might be a last-minute plan that might work here.
A young kid, Harry something, would have to take one for the team…..
Modern Times
Harry Potter
Harry walked in a daze. He felt numb. When Ron and he had lost Hermione in the second year to Tom Riddle, the two had sworn a blood oath to never again lose another. They would lose themselves in their pursuit of defense and power. Never again would they let another slight pass of against them. No matter if took a million years, they would have their revenge.
Now that he had passed through the hell of the Dudleys, had Voldemort torture him in the graveyard, be beaten up and starved – the fucking people he had dedicated it all to had been alive all this time. Not only his par- no Mr and Mrs. Potter fucking alive – they had been thriving and off making more kids while he rotted away.
The dynamic duo had finally revealed themselves when he had grabbed the prophecy and the thing had turned out be a dud. It was fake. There was no prophecy. Like him, Voldemort too had fallen for a dud. There were no chosen ones and certainly no special powers about him. It was all a ruse to lure Voldemort out in the open so they could rally public support by exposing his return….
Harry knelt on the cold, hard floor of the dimly lit office, his emotions a tumultuous storm within him. His eyes, red and swollen from tears, darted up to see Headmistress McGonagall peering down at him with a mixture of stern disappointment and sorrow. The disappointment cut deeper than he had imagined, but it was nothing compared to the sight of the two people standing next to him.
James and Lily Potter stood there, looking as vibrant and alive as ever. James, tall and athletic, with an aristocratic appeal enhanced by his Oxford-esque glasses, exuded an air of confidence. Lily, with her perfectly proportioned figure clad in slim robes that balanced combat readiness with social elegance, radiated a quiet strength. Harry's heart twisted painfully at the sight.
Lily stepped forward, her voice gentle yet laden with sorrow. "Harry, we're so sorry you had to find out this way."
"Sorry?" Harry's voice cracked, a raw edge of anger threading through his grief. "How can you be sorry for something like this?"
"When Voldemort killed Dumbledore all those years ago," Lily continued, her eyes pleading for understanding, "hope instantly vanished. People all but declared Voldemort the master of the British Isles. But we were determined not to let that happen."
James took over, his voice blunt and unyielding. "We hatched a plan. We couldn't let Voldemort win."
"Plan?" Harry echoed, his fists clenching. "What kind of plan involves abandoning your child?"
"Harry," James said, his tone as cold as the dungeon air, "you were never a Potter."
The words hit Harry like a physical blow, leaving him breathless. "What do you mean?" he whispered, his voice barely audible.
James continued, unrelenting. "You were an illegitimate child of a Hufflepuff girl. She got pregnant by a student and wanted to abort out of fear. I offered to take the baby off her hands with no strings attached, her parents being none the wiser."
"No," Harry gasped, shaking his head. "No, that can't be true."
Lily's eyes filled with tears as she stepped closer. "We knew the night Voldemort attacked, Harry. We were more than prepared. We had laid out an ambush."
"Prepared?" Harry's rage flared, his voice rising. "You call abandoning me prepared?"
"It was the only way," James insisted, his expression hardening. "We couldn't risk Voldemort finding out about you. If he had known—"
"If he had known?" Harry shouted, standing up, his fists trembling. "If he had known what? That you were playing a twisted game with my life?"
"Harry," McGonagall interjected, her voice firm, trying to regain control of the situation, "this is not the place—"
"No, Professor," Harry interrupted, his eyes blazing with fury. "I deserve to know. I deserve to understand why my whole life has been a lie."
"Harry," Lily began again, her voice trembling, "we did it to protect you. We thought it was the best way to keep you safe."
"Safe?" Harry laughed bitterly. "You think growing up with the Dursleys was safe? You think living a lie was safe?"
"The night Voldemort attacked; we knew dueling him outright would be a fools errand especially when Dumbledore lay dead at his feet. We placed powerful runes all over you fueled by powerful rituals. Several of our Order members willingly sacrificed their life for this to happen." James said, "His essence was ripped out of him and then forcibly pushed back. Similar to what dementors do but much worse. The body isn't meant to handle such stress. It simply disintegrated."
Lily took over, "We knew the magic was powerful, but it wouldn't be enough to fully kill Voldemort. A hypothesis that has proven itself true over time."
James took a step closer, his expression softening slightly. "We did what we thought was right, Harry."
"Right?" Harry's voice broke, tears streaming down his face. "Nothing about this is right."
"Harry, the path of self-sacrifice is a difficult one to comprehend. But in times of war and darkness, sacrifices must be made for the greater good. We made the agonizing decision to use you as a lightning rod, a symbol to draw Voldemort's attention away from their true plans." James, "We needed a place for Voldemort and the death eaters to cast their focus on while we work in the shadows to undermine him. Given all the attention Voldemort has shown you over past 5 years, can you honestly say it was a bad strategy?"
"The life of many will always outweight the live of one." Lily said.
The room fell into a heavy silence, the weight of the truth settling over them. Harry looked between James and Lily, the people he had idolized and longed for, now revealed to be strangers. His heart ached with a pain he had never known, torn between the love he had for the parents he thought he knew and the betrayal he felt now.
Headmistress McGonagall finally spoke, her voice gentle yet commanding. "Harry, take some time. Let this sink in. We'll find a way through this together."
But Harry couldn't hear her. The world around him blurred as he turned away, stumbling towards the door. Everything he had believed, everything he had known, was shattered. And in the midst of his grief and rage, one question echoed in his mind: who was he really, if not Harry Potter?
Hogwarts
It had been a month since the fateful day in McGonagall's office. The Potters had come out of hiding and James had launched an election bid for the minister's office. With panic on the street, people naturally went towards the young Aurror promising stability and security. He angrily glared at Charlotte Potter sitting across the table. The youngest Potter child, a year behind Harry. She had previously attended Beauxbaton under a pseudonym. For the life of him Harry couldn't recall seeing her during the Tri-Wizard tournament.
She very much resembled the Potters. Charlotte had quickly amassed a considerable social circle within Hogwarts since arriving. She had her father's prodigious talent and charisma with her mother's cunning. Plus, being a millionaire princess did help the matters. The girl had spent considerable time and effort in getting close to him. Harry had roughly told her to fuck off and to leave him alone. That didn't deter her the slightest. She took off for a few days before beginning the cycle anew. Even now she caught Harry's glaring at him and cheerfully waved back at him.
Harry angrily gripped the knife in his hand till it drew blood from it. Everytime he saw her it made his blood boil. The Potters had forcibly taken him to their mansion during the Christmas break as a means of getting close to him. On first night he had broken Lupin's nose when he had revealed his involvement in the plot. Every moment he had spent in that hell had been torture. The fresh scented air of roses, the opulence and grandeur of the manor, the infinite supply of warm water with every bit of creature comfort a house elf away. Harry couldn't help but compare it to his own circumstances. The starvation, the hunger, and the bullying from the Dursleys. Edward, Victoria, and Charlotte, all had individually visited him expressing their condolences. Regardless of how harshly he spoke to them, they kept coming back. Them with their perfect teeth, bodies that had never known starvation, and clothes that cost more than his entire monthly savings.
Harry had wanted to rip the smile off their faces. The fake moody would have approved.
"Can I help you, Harry?" Charlotte cheerfully asked and Harry realized he had walked over to her without meaning it.
You have to mean it for them to work, boy. The fake Moody had told him when he was in an extra-credit class with him practicing the killing curse. Back then, he had no idea what the hell Moody was talking about. But now, he know. Boy oh boy he knew about it. His wand gave out an eerie glow and quite a few eyes turned towards him.
All the beatings from the Dursleys. All the hours spent starving and cramped in the cupboard beneath the stairs. All the time he had spent at the mercy of Voldemort, the basilisk, how Hermione had died because Voldemort believed him to the boy who lived, and more. All of it ignited into a violent inferno as Harry levelled his wand at him.
He could hear people scrambling away from the mad man Harry. Ron in the distance roaring at him to stop as he sprinted towards him. Charlotte's widened eye reflected his own insane visage. At that moment Charlotte realized the true scope of what her parents had unleashed. None of her fancy dueling lessons with her mother mattered. None of her survival training with her father mattered. None of it mattered when you were caught lacking.
Harry had suffered. Now it was time for the Potters to join in and feel his pain. If somebody hated and screwed, you over for no reason. You were honor bound to give that motherfucker a reason.
"AVADA KADEVRA!" Harry roared and none was able to intervene in time. Charlotte simply slumped lifelessly into her omelet.
He giggled. He couldn't help it. He giggled uncontrollably. The giggles soon broke out into maniacal laughter. Two stunners slammed into him, and Harry's world went dark. But the shit eating grin still didn't leave his face.
Harry, no last name. The judge's voice intoned. For the crime of murder, I sentence you to life in Azkaban without parole.
Significant Potter money had been spent to reach that verdict. The no parole was particularly hammered in by James to ensure that Harry wouldn't get out on any technicality. Not that he could of course. He had no money to hire a lawyer and no public defender wanted to represent him lest they end up on the wrong side of the incoming minister James Potter.
He laughed. That was the only thing he could do. His laughter was the one thing that cut them deeper than anything else. One thing they would never be able to take away from him.
Azkaban
He wasn't in the holding cell yet. They hadn't processed him. The guard had received a note and suddenly made himself scarce. In walked Lily Evans Potter, a far outcry of the concerned citizen she was in the Headmistress's office. She wore a deathly cold expression on her face and glared at him. Harry gave her a cheerful wave in return. She smiled grimly in return. The chains holding him made it tough to get closer to her but Harry did his best to lean in.
"I see the concerned woman act had no effect on you." Lily said, "You have no idea how hard it was to not curse your bits off every time you threw a tantrum during the Christmas holidays."
Lily nodded to herself as if appraising her own resolve, "An entire holiday turned to muck by your teenage angst and the inability to understand higher concepts in life."
"I knew you would be trouble. The moment you killed that Basilisk I knew you would be more trouble than you are worth. Regardless of whatever James saw in you." Lily said, "I have no idea what made him think you would rejoin the fold."
Harry shrugged in response. He didn't know either.
"You could have had it all. Only if you were loyal." She said, "Hells, we could have used a man like you on our side. James and I would have given you the world. If only you could curb your teenage angst."
Harry shrugged once again and Lily nodded in agreement.
"Too late for that now. Time's over." She levelled her wand at his chest, "Time for punishment."
CRUCIO! She angrily whispered and Harry howled in pain filled laughter bewildering Lily.
End.
Author notes: Just a random idea I had. A fic inspired by the movies Shot caller and Joker. The next chapter will focus on Harry's life in Azakaban.
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