Written for
Daily prophet competition #9
Dark!Harry AU
Hogwarts Assignment 4
Funny bunny with Professor Loops
Task 3 - Write about an unexpected turn of events.
WC: 781
"Together, we can bring them back. All I ask...is for something in return."
Slowly, almost involuntarily, Harry removed the Stone from his pocket.
"That's it, Harry. There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it. Together, we'll do extraordinary things. Just...give me the Stone."
—Extract taken from Philosopher's Stone
Harry has had a difficult start to life. So when he meets Voldemort for the first time—he does something that no one would have expected him to do.
Please, please, please
"You're a freak! No one will ever be friends with you!"
"Boy, you're a waste of space. You should be grateful I haven't thrown you out onto the streets!"
"You're so weird, it's not normal."
All of those words, phrases and actions are all that he had known. No one had shown him kindness, or love. In return, he gave up on hope that he would ever be loved.
He hated that word. Hope.
He would observe everyone around him, and stay reserved. Speak only when a response was needed. Why? It wasn't worth the trouble. He wasn't worth the trouble.
He had been like this for years now and the Dursley's had been somewhat neutral to him as a result.
When the Hogwarts letter came, he refused to have hope that anything good would come out of it. Deep inside, his heart was pleading with him to have faith. He knew better.
He decided to play the perfect Potter when Hagrid finally found him. It was tiring being someone else—but he knew that having the title "The Boy Who Lived" would come with expectations.
Playing the part was fine.
Arriving at Hogwarts…pleased him more than he wanted to admit. He had to let it show. Already everyone expected him to be exactly like his parents—how could he do that? He never knew them.
The Sorting Hat was right, he would be great in Slytherin. He had been very tempted to go into that House just to see the looks on everyone's faces. Their hero, a Slimy Slytherin, according to Ron.
That was the moment he first felt the pain on his forehead. It wasn't a bad pain though, if he could say that. It felt…nice. Welcome. Like, he knew the familiar sensation from whoever it was coming from.
The obvious answer seemed to be Snape. Though when he looked at him, it didn't give him a warm welcoming feel. So he wasn't completely sure.
He had to find that feeling again.
A few months later and he had somehow got into a mess that he didn't really care too much about. Hermione and Ron were bickering about something, as usual, while he was reading the rest of the book that Hermione had found about Nicolas Flamel.
His friends noticed and asked why—he replied that there could be other important information in the book. Hermione was pleased about this and Ron simply pulled a face.
He wanted to know more about the magical world. If he were to survive in the way his parents hadn't, he needed to know everything.
He promised himself he wouldn't get too attached to his friends. To the adventure they were taking part in. He still didn't have hope that things would get better—that someone would actually love him. That he wouldn't be a freak like he'd been called his whole life.
This school had changed his outlook slightly. He was a little bit more positive as Ron sacrificed himself to help them through the challenges.
As Hermione told him to go forward, that she knew it was him who had to move on, he didn't argue. She was right.
The warm feeling on his forehead came the moment he stepped into the room.
He was in the right place.
He spotted Quirrel and the mirror.
Voldemort.
The stone.
His parents.
His heart quickened—this could be it.
"Together, we can bring them back. All I ask...is for something in return."
Slowly, almost involuntarily, Harry removed the Stone from his pocket.
"That's it, Harry. There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it. Together, we'll do extraordinary things. Just...give me the Stone."
He gave one final look at his parents as they faded. Voldemort was wrong.
"Liar!" He stated, simply. "You can't bring them back." This was supposed to be the part where he fought back. Where he runs away. Only. He stood still, instead.
He started to say something, trying not to mess it up. This was his chance.
"But… please… please, please—"
He swallowed a lump in his throat and took a moment.
Voldemort couldn't bring them back from the dead. He didn't want them back. No, he wanted the power that he was talking about.
He wanted the power to change the world. To get revenge for those who wronged his family. All of them. He stared at Voldemort.
He wasn't going to be a freak any longer.
"On one condition," he found himself saying, using his courage. His voice was hoarse and low. He looked straight into Voldemort's eyes. "You help me get revenge."
Voldemort smirked at him in return.
No one was going to see this coming.