Dis Lexics vault of Secrets
Ideas, plot bunnys that won't let go, possible future stories. feel free to pick up the stories if you like them.
And we're back with another entry to the Vault! This time the idea comes from Undercover Operative's Harry the Heathen challenge, rules below:
Plot: Harry Potter is a Half-Blood, that much is for certain. His divine parent isn't Greek, that much is also for certain. The only uncertain thing about Harry, is what his divine parent actually is!
Rules
Harry's divine parent can be from ANY pantheon other than Greek. (Roman, Egyptian, Norse, etc… and just to mix it up I'll accept 'Spirits' too, please someone write a 'Son of Jack Frost' story :D.).
Harry must attend Camp Half-Blood, even once everyone discovers the truth, he must be allowed to remain (For whatever reason).
Harry's heritage must remain a secret from most of the Camp, as in he can't go around saying 'I'm the Son of BLANK', he has to keep it a secret for as long as he can. (He can tell one or two people he trusts however).
Harry's divine 'adventure' has to begin during the Hogwarts school year, but only after third year (I'll accept third year only if it's around the end. And as long as his powers start developing during the year, I'll accept the holidays after if it's done well).
Light or Grey Harry.
Harry must, at any time you desire, say something along the lines of 'Hey I'm (INSERT PANTHEON HERE) Zeus has no power over me'.
Among the Big Three, Harry has the favour of one of them, the apathy of another, and is hated by the final one.
Guidelines
Harry is declared the Champion of another God (No Twice-Blessed stories. Champions are fine though).
A prophecy being made about Harry.
Harry's divine parent not being an actual God (E.g. Harry Potter; Son of the Archangel Michael, or Harry Potter; Son of Jack Frost (Hint Hint).
Any Pairing Welcome
Forbidden
Harry's divine parent being Greek.
Weak obedient Harry.
Dark or Evil Harry, (The occasional Dark moment is okay though, as long as he doesn't make it a habit).
Now, I will be taking a few cues from a couple of other fandoms for this story, but this won't be a crossover with it. Enjoy!
Son of the Dark Lord
Harry Potter sat bolt upright in bed, his hand jumping to his burning scar. He had just woken up from a dream of Voldemort and Wormtail talking about killing him and killing an old Muggle man. That wasn't what had woken him up though. After Voldemort had killed the old man, the dream had changed. He had been sucked through the mansions floor, right through the foundations and into a massive cavern that was filled with foul green clouds, walking corpses and fungi. He didn't stop there though and was dragged even deeper, through seven more caverns filled with a variety of different things, until he finally stopped in a final caven that held a huge palace surrounded with blue flame.
That blue flame had filled him with a sense of both fear and comfort. He had landed on the bridge that lead up to the gates of the palace, and his feet had began to move on there own, carrying him through the doors as they creaked open and into a massive throne room that was lit only by the azure flames, throwing most of the room into shadow but for an aisle down the centre. At the head of the room was nine thrones, all with a different motif that matched one of the levels Harry had been dragged through. Only one of the thrones was occupied, the one in the centre that sat above the others and appeared to be the most grand. It appeared to be made of frozen flames and was the same blue as the flames that lit the room. The figure that sat on the throne was hidden by the shadows, with only his glowing azure piercing the darkness. The eyes flashed once and Harry woke.
Harry sat on his bed, panting, a hand pressed to his throbbing scar and gasping for breath. That dream had been terrifying, far more so than any he had ever had before. He didn't know what had been sat on that Azure throne, but whatever it was filled him with far more fear than Voldemort ever could. He got out of bed and opened his cupboard door to look at the full length mirror held within, studying his scar for any sign of the pain that had filled it. Had he looked at the rest of his face, he would have seen his eyes momentarily flash blue and red.
Halloween, Announcement of the Champions
Harry stood there, his head down and his fists clenched as the Headteachers of the three schools, plus Snape and the Ministry officials argued about whether or not he should be allowed to compete, all while calling him a liar and a cheat. Finally, the young boy couldn't take it any more and his temper boiled over.
"SHUT UP!"
His shout echoed around the room and was accompanied by an explosion from the grate as the fire surged higher and gained a momentary blue tint. Everyone immediately fell silent and stared at the normally mild mannered teen as he stood there panting, a snarl on his face that showed his teeth that looked oddly pointed in the firelight.
"Five points from Gry…" started Snape, only for Harry to spin to face him, his eyes flashing blue as the unlit torch next to Snapes head erupted, making him jerk away lest his greasy hair catch fire.
"You people make me sick," he snarled, his blazing eyes sweeping around the room, "Instead of trying to find out who put my name in the Goblet and why, you're more interested in making complaints."
"Now see here!" shouted Karkaroff, his face turning pruce.
Harry just glared at him, making the Headmaster shrink before his blazing gaze, before the boy turned on his heel and marched from the room, ignoring Dumbledores calls for him to come back. The teen stormed out of the castle and towards the lake where he fell to his knees and let out a roar of rage and frustration, a wave of blue fire erupting from his body and scorching a circle of grass around him.
When Harry returned to the tower a few hours later, everyone was throwing a party in the common room and cheered as he entered. He moved through the room, completely ignoring everyone who tried to talk to him, quickly making his way up the staircase to the dorms, nearly crushing the Creevey brothers when they tried to stop him. The dormitory was almost completely empty, but for Ron who was laying on his bed.
"Where've you been?" Harry growled, his temper still not fully cooled.
"Oh hello," said Ron.
He was grinning, but it was a very odd, strained sort of grin. Harry suddenly became aware that he was wearing a scarlet Gryffindor banner that someone had tied around him on his trip across the common room. He hastened to take it off, his nails slicing through the fabric with ease, something neither boy noticed from behind their respective hazes of emotion.
"So," he said, as Harry threw the banner into a corner, "Congratulations."
"What d'you mean, congratulations?" asked Harry, staring at Ron.
There was definitely something wrong with the way Ron was smiling: It was more like a grimace.
"Well, no one else got across the Age Line," said Ron, "Not even Fred and George. What did you use, the Invisibility Cloak?"
"The Invisibility Cloak wouldn't have got me over that line," said Harry shortly.
"Oh right," said Ron, "I thought you might've told me if it was the cloak because it would've covered both of us, wouldn't it? But you found another way, did you?"
"Listen," growled Harry, his hands balling into fists once more, "I didn't put my name in that Goblet. Someone else must've done it."
Ron raised his eyebrows.
"What would they do that for?"
"I dunno," said Harry. He felt it would sound very melodramatic to say, "To kill me."
Ron's eyebrows rose so high that they were in danger of disappearing into his hair.
"It's okay, you know, you can tell me the truth," he said, "If you don't want everyone else to know, fine, but I don't know why you're bothering to lie, you didn't get into trouble for it, did you? That friend of the Fat Lady's, that Violet, she's already told us all Dumbledore's letting you enter. A thousand Galleons prize money, eh? And you don't have to do end-of-year tests either."
"I didn't put my name in that goblet!" snarled Harry, his eyes flashing blue once more and making the heater in the middle of the room explode, something that was ignored by both boys.
"Yeah, okay," said Ron, in exactly the same sceptical tone as Cedric, "Only you said this morning you'd have done it last night, and no one would've seen you. I'm not stupid, you know."
"You're doing a really good impression of it," Harry snapped, doing his best to get his temper under control.
"Yeah?" said Ron, and there was no trace of a grin, forced or otherwise, on his face now, "You want to get to bed, Harry. I expect you'll need to be up early tomorrow for a photo-call or something."
He wrenched the hangings shut around his four-poster, leaving Harry standing there by the door, staring at the dark red velvet curtains, now hiding one of the few people he had been sure would believe him.
"Where am I?" asked Harry as he looked around.
The last thing he remembered was falling asleep after arguing with Ron and now he found himself stood in the middle of what appeared to be a large, perfectly flat lake that extended way off into the distance. The only other thing in this strange place was a single, leafless elder tree standing up in the water. High above, the sky was completely black, but for a single, azure blue moon that hung in the sky like a baleful eye. Harry looked down and found himself staring at his reflection in the perfectly black water beneath his feet.
However, this reflection wasn't the one that looked back at him every morning. To start with, his skin was grey, his hair was Raven wing black, much darker than Harrys own and extended down the the small of his back, and his eyes were a bright, azure blue that matched the moon in the sky and had black where the white should be. The tips of fangs could be seen peeking from between his lips and his fingers were tipped with black claws. Finally, and the features the drew the eye the most, was the huge, black feathered wings that emerged from his back and the forked tail that waved lazily behind him.
The teen Wizard quickly glanced behind him to make sure he had not sprouted anything extra. After confirming that he didn't have wings and a tail, Harry returned his gaze to the odd reflection, just in time to see it grin tootherly and reach up, its clawed hands breaking the surface of the water as it hauled itself up. In a matter of moments, the demonic being was stood opposite Harry, completely dry despite the fact he had just pulled himself from the water.
The mirror grinned at Harry, revealing its shark like teeth before surging forwards and stabbing its clawed hand through his chest.
Harry sat bolt upright in bed, his hand leaping to his chest, expecting to find a hole where his strange mirror had stabbed him. Instead he felt nothing but flawless skin. Harry let out a sigh of relief and clambered out of bed, moving into the bathroom to perform his morning ritual. As he did, he caught sight of his reflection and froze in shock. His ears were now pointed and, when he opened his mouth, he saw that his teeth were now pointed and his incisors were slightly elongated. It was then he realized his nails had been replaced with black claws that were sharp enough to cut the sink basin.
"What is happening to me?" whispered Harry, looking down at his now clawed hands.
The Graveyard, after the Ritual
Harry struggled against the ropes that bound him tightly to the Gravestone as Voldemort spoke to his followers, occasionally stopping to inflict the Cruciatus curse on one or another, something that sent a lance of pain through Harrys scar every time. Eventually, the twisted man turned his attention to Harry.
"Now, I'm sure you are all wondering how it is I was able to return, hmm?" said Voldemort. "And it begins - and ends – with my young friend here."
He walked lazily over to stand next to Harry, so that the eyes of every Death Eater in the circle were locked upon the two of them.
"You know, of course, that they have called this boy my downfall?" Voldemort said softly, his red eyes upon Harry, whose scar began to burn so fiercely that he almost screamed in agony, "You all know that on the night I lost my powers and my body, I tried to kill him. His Mudblood bitch of mother died in the attempt to save him and unwittingly provided him with a protection I admit I had not foreseen. I could not touch the boy."
Voldemort raised one of his long white fingers and put it very close to Harry's cheek.
"The Mudblood left upon him the traces other sacrifice. This is old magic, I should have remembered it and I was foolish to overlook it. But no matter, I can touch him now." Harry felt the cold tip of the long white finger touch him, and thought his head would burst with the pain. Voldemort laughed softly in his ear, then took the finger away and continued addressing the Death Eaters, telling them all about his experience as a bodiless wrath and pointing blame at them for not realising he was alive and finding him, all the while making insulting references to the Potters and their sacrifice. Harry hung against the ropes that bound him to the stone, listening to the twisted creature belittle his parents sacrifice.
"Shut up," he hissed as the Death Eaters laughed at something Voldemort had just said.
"What was that Harry?" purred Voldemort.
"I said shut the hell up," growled Harry, lifting his head and glearing at Voldemort.
"Oh, it looks like Harry still has some fight in him," mocked Voldemort, "Come on then Harry, lets see what you can do. Untie him Wormtail and give him back his wand!"
The Rat like man hurried to obey, before scuttling back into the circle of Death Eaters as Harry glared at Voldemort with eyes full of hatred and anger.
"You have been taught how to duel Harry Potter?" said Voldemort softly, his red eyes glinting through the darkness, "First, we bow to each other.."
Voldemort gave a mocking bow, keeping his snakelike face upturned to Harry so the boy could see his twisted grin.
"Come, the niceties must be observed, Dumbledore would like you to show manners. Come on, bow to death, Harry."
Harry did not bow. He would not bow to this abomination, not now, not ever.
"I said, bow," Voldemort said, raising his wand.
Harry felt a pressure on his spine as though a huge, invisible hand was pressing into his back and attempting to force it to bend. Harry tightened his spine and refused to allow his back to bend even a few inches. Voldemorts smile slipped slightly at Harrys apparent lack of reaction, but straightened up.
"Very well, if you will not observe the niceties, we will begin," said Voldemort softly, "And now you face me, like a man, straight-backed and proud, so unlike your Father who coward before me."
Harrys hands clenched tighter at the dig at his Father that he knew for a fact to be untrue, thanks to the Dementors last year.
"And now - we duel." Voldemort raised his wand, and before Harry could do anything to defend himself, before he could even move, he had been hit again by the Cruciatus Curse.
The pain was so intense, so all consuming, that he no longer knew where he was. White-hot knives were piercing every inch of his skin, his head was surely going to burst with pain, he was screaming more loudly than he'd ever screamed in his life. Deep within Harry, something stirred and a pair of azure eyes opened, as well as a pure white grin as it saw a chance to get out. Just one more push...
As quickly as it came, the pain stopped. Harry rolled over and scrambled to his feet; he was shaking as uncontrollably as Wormtail had done when his hand had been cut off; he staggered sideways into the wall of watching Death Eaters, and they pushed him away, back toward Voldemort.
"A little break," said Voldemort, the slit-like nostrils dilating with excitement, "a little pause. That hurt, didn't it Harry? You don't want me to do that again, do you?"
Harry didn't answer. He was going to die like Cedric, those pitiless red eyes were telling him so. He was going to die and there was nothing he could do about it, but he wasn't going to play along. He wasn't going to obey Voldemort he wasn't going to beg.
"I asked you whether you want me to do that again," said Voldemort softly. "Answer me! Imperio" And Harry felt, for the third time in his life, the sensation that his mind had been wiped of all thought. Ah, it was bliss, not to think, it was as though he were floating, dreaming.
"Excellent."
Within Harry's soul, the entity that resided there leaped forwards and took a hold of Harry's consciousness, instantly consuming that little voice telling the boy to say no. Outside, Harry's body suddenly went still, before a strange, black mist seemed to cover him.
"Hehehehe."
The mist swirled around Harry as his hair lengthened and darkened, his body grew and became more defined, a tail tore its way through the back of his robes, followed by a massive pair of wings. Even his clothes changed from the red and black robes he was wearing for the tournament to black robes held shut by a white belt and covered by a blue cloak . Finally, the black mist swirled around his wand and transformed the focus into a longsword in a dark blue sheath and a pommel bearing the inverted pentagram symbol.
The entity in Harrys body opened his eyes, revealing azure orbs that glimmered with dark humour as he began to examine his body, stretching his limbs and flapping his wings gently. The entity frowned as it reached its head and probed at Harrys scar with a clawed finger.
"Hmm, well it seems I have a hitchhiker," he said, his voice much deeper and more mature than Harrys.
The Demonic being pressed his claw into the mark, drawing blood, before a loud scream echoed around the graveyard as it pulled what appeared to be a wisp of dark green smoke from the mark and held it between his forefinger and thumb before it was engulfed in a flash of blue fire and reduced to ash.
"Who are you?" demanded Voldemort, shaking of both the shock at the pathetic Potters transformation and the aura of fear this strange being wore about him like a cloak.
The being looked over at Voldemort with amusement glimmering in his eyes.
"Oh come now Tom, don't you recognise me?" He asked, making Voldemort grit his teeth and clench his fists, "I am Harry Potter."
He tilted his head to the side to avoid the bloody red spell Voldemort sent his way.
"Don't you lie to me!" snarled the Dark Lord, "You can't be Potter!"
"And why not Tommy-boy?" purred Harry, "I am Harry Potter, the side of him that resides in Darkness, the side that relishes in the fear and despair of others. I am his Dark Side, the part inherited from our Father."
"Your father?" scoffed Voldemort, "He was even more of a Light Follower than you Potter."
At that, Harry actually laughed, his mirth echoing around the graveyard.
"You actually think that James Potter is our father?" he asked, once his mirth had faded, "Sorry to disappoint, but that is not the case. The truth is that the man known as James Potter never truly existed. His true name, is Satan."
And there we go, the end of the longest entry to the Vault to date. I took ideas from Blue Exorcist (Harry being the son of Satan, the Eight Demon Kings and the blue fire) and a couple from Nura: Rise of the Youki Clan (Harry having an alternate form and personality for his demonic side).
Please leave me a review on the way out!