I do not own Harry Potter, if I did it would be a hell of a lot darker…like this story
Hello guys, Badger here. I'm here with the first chapter of a brand new story. No doubt you've read the summary and have come with the conclusion that this story is quite dark. I'm not leaving any hints but, it has the potential to be one of, if not the darkest story I'm currently writing. But who knows, let's see what happens.
I look forward to see what you all think, so I hope you enjoy and I'll see you at the end.
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Chapter 1
Heir Of The Dark Lord
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Halloween, 1981:
The paleness of the moonlight cast a bright shine over Godric's Hollow as Voldemort, the Dark Lord, strode down the quiet street with his red eyes, eyes of the devil, gleaming under his black cloak and his wand held with a firm grip in his hand, the tip glowing an ominous green hue, as he approached a house. A house that had remained hidden from him for so long. But no more. Thanks to the words of Peter Pettigrew, he now knew where the Potters were hiding. Voldemort knew Pettigrew was a coward. He could tell the moment he lay eyes on the man. Pettigrew was practically shaking and crying at the sight of the Dark Lord. Voldemort could practically taste the fear. However, despite how cowardly Pettigrew was he still proved useful, telling him the location of the Potters, before Voldemort wickedly slit the man's throat, letting him die a slow and painful death. And now, he was mere steps away from the child that had been prophesied to kill him.
Voldemort was not one to show fear. He had nothing to fear, after all. After years of creating Horcruxes and fail-safes, he was essentially immortal. Nothing could scare him. However, when he had been informed about a prophecy, prophecy which revealed that a child had been born with the potential to defeat him for good, Voldemort had felt that cold feeling of fear for the first time in years. Though he'd never admit to such a thing out loud.
'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...'
Voldemort couldn't allow such a thing to happen. He wouldn't. With the knowledge of the prophecy, he made it a personal mission to determine the child that the prophecy had spoken of. And the Dark Lord had come up with two potential children. The Potters and the Longbottoms. Thanks to the information from Severus Snape, his spy within Albus Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix, Voldemort had learnt that both Lily Potter and Alice Longbottom had given birth to sons, one day apart, in July. Born as the seventh month dies. Either of the boys could be the one that the Prophecy was speaking off, however the Dark Lord believed the Potter spawn to be the prophesied child in question due to the knowledge that the boy had been born on the final day of July, as the seventh month dies.
However, just as he figured out who the prophecy could be talking about, the Potters had gone into hiding, under a Fidelius Charm. One could argue coincidence, but Voldemort thought otherwise. Especially seeing as he had Snape act as a double agent. Perhaps the man wasn't as loyal as he made himself out to be. But that was a situation to deal with, another time. He had more important matters to attend to.
He stepped towards the house, feeling the wards strain from his presence, as he heard panicked voices coming from inside the building. A cold smile crept across his face as he pointed his wand at the lock on the door, casting an unlocking charm, allowing the door to slowly swing open. Stepping into the house, he was met with the presence of James Potter, standing defiantly with a wand in his hand at the bottom of the staircase. Voldemort heard the faint sound of a door slamming coming from upstairs. No doubt it was Lily, hiding away with the child he had come for.
"Step aside Potter, don't make this more sweeter then it already is…" Voldemort said, in a smooth tone
"Never!" James Potter replied, raising his wand, "I won't let you kill my family…my son…I'd die before I let that happen…Diffindo!"
A Cutting Curse quickly fired out of James' wand, hurtling towards Voldemort. A Curse which the Dark Lord easily swatted away with a mere flick of his wand. The green glow on the tip of Voldemort's wand grew brighter, as did the gleam in his eyes.
"As you wish…" Voldemort said, "Avada Kedavra!"
The Killing Curse came at him so quickly, James Potter wasn't able to respond before the curse hit him in the chest causing his lifeless body to crumple against the wall and onto the stairs, his eyes empty as they looked up at the ceiling, his wand clattering against the floor. Voldemort down at the man's body with indifference, before he strode up the stairs, hoping to find wherever Lily Potter was hiding with her son. He could hear noises as he ascended the stairs, before his gaze turned to a closed door on the far side of the corridor, labelled with the sign: Harry's Room. Gripping his wand tightly in his palm once more, Voldemort approached the door, testing the handle to see that the door was locked. He tried using an Unlocking Charm, only to fail. Lily Potter must've used a charm of some kind to keep him out.
Smart, but not smart enough.
Voldemort took a few steps back, as he raised his wand at the door and cast an Bombardment Spell at the door, causing it to explode with shards of wood and other shrapnel flying everywhere as a result of the explosion. As the dust began to clear, Voldemort stepped into the room where he immediately saw Lily Potter in front of a cot, where Harry Potter sat. His eyes narrowed as he looked back to Lily, who continued to stand there defiantly, no wand in sight.
She was either very brave, or very foolish.
"If you're smarter then your husband, you will step aside…" He warned
"No, don't hurt Harry!" Lily pleaded, "Kill me if you must, but don't hurt my son!"
Foolish.
"Very well…" Voldemort said, raising his wand, "Avada Kedavra!"
Lily closed her eyes, before the Killing Curse hit her chest and she collapsed onto the floor lifeless, as well. Voldemort didn't even spare her body a single glance, as he approached the cot where her son, Harry, sat. He raised his wand once again, the Killing Curse on the tip of his tongue, but paused as he looked at the baby. The baby was only a year old, not even old enough to properly speak or even think. Yet, Harry did not cry, nor make a single sound at all. He just looked up at Voldemort, without an ounce of fear in his eyes. Eyes that matched the hue of the Killing Curse. Confusion would be the word Voldemort would use to describe the look on the babies, face.
However, Voldemort could see something else inside the babies eyes. Something he didn't expect to see in one so young. Power. Perhaps the baby in front of him was indeed the one the prophecy had spoken of. The prophecy was still on Voldemort's mind, but he could not let this power go to waste.
No. He had a better idea.
Voldemort lowered his wand, putting it away within his robes, before he reached down and picked up Harry out of his crib, carrying him a tad awkwardly in his arms, having never held a baby before. Harry didn't seem to react as he was picked up, looking down a little at his mum on the floor confused as to what was going on, before looking up at the strange man currently holding him.
"I know you must be confused, child, but you'll understand soon enough…" Voldemort said, "There is great power within you, I can sense it…I will teach you everything I can about magic and the Dark Arts, for you will make a fine heir…but first, I must make sure they won't come after me…"
Holding Harry with one arm, Voldemort quickly took off his cloak and threw it into the dust and rubble. He wouldn't be able to raise Harry as his heir, if the Ministry or Dumbledore's damned Order of the Phoenix constantly on his tail. Faking his death was the only guarantee. As painful as it may be to do so, especially after all his hard work. But it will all be worth it. Once Harry has grown and the time is right, Voldemort will return and together, the two of them will take over the entirety of the Wizarding World as Lord and Heir.
With a cold smile, Voldemort slowly walked out of Godric's Hollow, with Harry still in his arms, and apparated away once the two of them were passed the wards.
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Just as Voldemort apparated away from Godric's Hollow, Dumbledore suddenly appeared just down the street, in a panic. He had been inside his office at Hogwarts, when he felt the protective wards around Godric's Hollow shatter. As soon as he felt it, he quickly apparated to Godric's Hollow. For the wards to shatter the way they did, it could only mean one thing. As Dumbledore quickly rushed down the street, he prayed to Merlin himself that the worst hadn't happened like he feared. However, as he entered the house, his worst fears proved to be true, when he saw the sight of James Potter laying dead on the staircase. His wand on the floor told the ancient Headmaster that James had put up some sort of fight before he died.
With a shaky breath, Dumbledore knelt down beside James' corpse and respectfully closed the man's eyes. Dumbledore paused for a moment, as he wished for James' spirit to find peace in the afterlife, before he stood back up and went upstairs to find Lily and Harry. He was immediately drawn to the destroyed doorframe at the very end of the corridor, where he was met with the sight of Lily, dead just like James. Tears pricked the corners of the Headmasters eyes, as he took in the sight. As he looked around the room, he noticed a cloak amongst he rubble and dust. A cloak he knew well. The Dark Lords cloak. Had the Dark Lord been destroyed? As Dumbledore picked it up, he couldn't find any signs of a body, only dust and debris. Was the war over?
As Dumbledore look around, with so many questions in his head, he quickly noticed something that he hadn't realised sooner. Harry wasn't in his cot. In fact, he was nowhere to be found. Dumbledore looked throughout the whole of Godric's Hollow and yet, there was no sign of the boy. Had the boy defeated the Dark Lord? Was he the child the Prophecy had spoken of?
If so, where was he? Had someone taken him? Sirius? A Death Eater?
Dumbledore began to panic at the thought. If a Death Eater had taken Harry, there's no telling what would happen. The Headmaster took several deep breaths to calm himself down, as he thought about what to do next. He knew he had to tell the Ministry about what happened. That James and Lily had perished and the Dark Lord had, seemingly, been destroyed by Harry. If anyone asked about Harry, he was going to have to lie and tell people that the boy was safe and in secure in a secret location. He couldn't have Wizarding Britain panicking over their saviour being missing. Once that was sorted, he was going to have to find out where Harry was and who took him.
The boy had to be somewhere.
…
1987:
Voldemort watched, as a seven year old Harry twitched and convulsed as he sat in the chair in front of him. After taking Harry away from Godric's Hollow on that Halloween night, Voldemort had brought the boy to a Manor House that the Riddle family had owned, overseas. It was hidden and out the way. Not many people had known about it, and it was surrounded by protective wards and the Fidelius Charm, meaning people like Dumbledore wouldn't be able to track down the boy. Once he was certain that no one would arrive on their doorstep, looking for Harry, Voldemort had put the boy through a Blood Adoption Ritual. If Harry was to be his heir, then Voldemort was going to make sure that it his blood, running through the boys veins.
As a result of the Blood Adoption Ritual, not only was Harry now Voldemort's son and heir despite the illegality, the boy had also acquired the ability to speak Parseltongue. Something Voldemort had learnt a few years ago, when he found Harry speaking with his snake, Nagini.
Over the last several years, Voldemort had been teaching Harry about the Wizarding World, magic, their politics as well as Pureblood supremacy, twisting the boys mind to that of a proper Pureblood supremacist. The way his heir should be. Voldemort had also told Harry about the events of the war and what happened at Godric's Hollow. Or, at least, Voldemort's own retelling of the events. As far as Harry was concerned, his original father was nothing more than a blood traitor, who married a filthy Mud-Blood, who rebelled along with many other families, against the true Purebloods of the Wizarding World. When Harry had been told this, he was more then grateful to Voldemort, for taking him away from that place and teaching him the proper ways of the Wizarding World.
The boys eagerness to learn, was not lost on the Dark Lord.
Currently, Voldemort was teaching Harry Occlumency, a tricky yet powerful magic that allowed one to close off their minds and block out any attempts to read their thoughts and travel through their memories. With people like Dumbledore being a master at Legilimency, Voldemort believed this to be a necessity for when Harry went to Hogwarts, as well as a convenient method of communication. Voldemort couldn't have the old man learning the truth. Over the years, he had been monitoring everything going on in Wizarding Britain after his "death". His Death Eaters were either on the run, or imprisoned, whilst the rest of the Wizarding population had begun to calm down from the events of the war, slowly lowering their guard in the process.
It made Voldemort smile, as he thought about his future plans and inevitable return to the Wizarding World.
However, with Harry's rather mediocre performance with Occlumency, those plans may take a while. Harry continued to convulse as he struggled to fight back against Voldemort's mind prone as the Dark Lord traversed through the boys thoughts and memories. After a few more minutes, he stopped, scoffing lightly in disappointment, whilst Harry panted a little, to catch his breath.
"Pitiful!" Voldemort spat, as he circled Harry, "Do you want everyone to know your secrets...because with your shoddy performance, that's exactly what's going to happen!"
"We've been doing this for hours, can I just rest?!" Harry exclaimed, still in his chair, a slight hiss in his voice, nearly speaking in Parseltongue
"There is no rest for Dark Lords!" Voldemort replied, leaning down to Harry's level, "As my heir I would've thought you'd understand this by now, after all I've taught you...if you continue performing poorly like you've been doing, you'll never take over from me, as the Dark Lord of the Wizarding World!"
"Well, maybe if you taught me actual magic, I would do better!" Harry spat back
A small flash of anger sparked in Voldemort's red eyes, but he restrained himself from backhanding the boy in front of him. This time. Though he was incredibly tempted to do so. As he didn't have any children of his own, Voldemort had no idea how difficult it could be, when he took Harry from Godric's Hollow. Even as a baby, Harry had his difficult moments. Sometimes Voldemort wondered if he would've just killed Harry that day, had he known how difficult he would be later in life.
Taking a deep breath, Voldemort stood straighter as he continued looking down at Harry, the anger still gleaming in his eyes. The flash in Voldemort's eyes made Harry a little fearful, knowing what the man was capable of, but he didn't back down, nor let it show.
"You want to learn 'proper' magic..." Voldemort said, "Fine...follow me, I'll teach you something..."
Harry quickly jumped off of his chair and followed after Voldemort, as he spun on his heel and walked out of the room, his dark robes billowing behind him. Voldemort led the boy down the corridors of the manor and into the cellar, where Harry saw several Muggles all tied up, each one looking beaten, exhausted and under the effects of a Silencing Charm. Even though the two of them were in hiding, Voldemort still kidnapped any Muggles and passer-by's, to torture and kill. For sport and the satisfaction, if nothing else. With a flick of his wrist, Voldemort's wand snapped into his palm, where he summoned one of the Muggles towards them, the Silencing Charm drowning their screams, as their knees scraped across the stone floor.
Once the Muggle was on their knees in front of them both, Voldemort turned to Harry once more, his voice stern like that of a Professor.
"You said you want to learn proper magic, I'll teach you a spell..." He said, "One of the Unforgivable Curses, I'm sure you remember me telling you about them...the Killing Curse...instant death upon impact...unlike other spells, the Unforgivable Curses needs a great deal of emotion and concentration to work properly...for you to kill them, you have to want it...now watch carefully!"
Harry took a step back, as he watched Voldemort raise his wand at the Muggle, who's silent pleads for mercy were ignored as the tip of his wand began an ominous green. With an utter of, Avada Kedavra, Harry watched in awe as a bright green glow hit the Muggle in the chest, and they crumpled to the floor with a dull thud. Harry looked at the Muggles corpse, eyes wide with glee. He had only been told about the Unforgivable Curses or read about them in books, and had always had a fascination for them. However, seeing them in use was another feeling entirely.
Voldemort, meanwhile, licked his lips. The taste of death was always sweet, no matter how many times he did it. With a flick of his wand, he summoned another Muggle towards them and turned to Harry, offering his wand to the boy.
"Now, it's your turn..." He said, smoothly
Harry looked up at Voldemort in shock, wondering if the Dark Lord was joking or not. Seeing no hint of humour in the man's eyes, Harry looked down at the wand in his palm, gingerly taking it with shaky hands. The wand felt weird in his hand. It was like it was alive. He shook himself, ignoring the knots he felt in his stomach as he turned to the Muggle, not noticing that Voldemort had taken a few steps back. As Harry raised the wand at the Muggle, he listened to Voldemort's previous words and thought about things that made him angry. Things that would make him want to kill the Muggle in front of him. His anger towards filthy Muggles and Mud-Bloods. Anger towards blood traitors who turned against their fellow Purebloods.
If Harry was paying attention to the wand in his hand, he would've noticed that the tip was glowing the same ominous green hue, that he had seen mere moments before.
"Avada Kedavra!" He said, after a moment
The moment the spell left his lips, he felt a strange sensation run through his body. It was as if his bones were vibrating inside his body, as a jet of green light shot out of the wand, hitting the Muggle in the chest and immediately dropped dead, like the previous Muggle before them. As the Muggle dropped dead, Harry looked down at the wand in his hands. That was the first time he had ever used a spell. The first time he has felt the power of magic. And it felt good.
Still holding the wand in his hands, Harry turned around to see Voldemort standing behind him, looking down at Harry, with a cold smile on his face.
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And that's chapter 1 done. What do you think?
I hope you enjoyed it, because I had nothing to help me with this. I haven't read any stories that have a Harry who's been raised by Voldemort, nor do I know about any, so I'm unaware of what is considered cliche or overdone with these type of stories, but I think you'll enjoy what I have planned, and what may or may not happen.
Only thing I will say, is that Harry won't be going to Hogwarts until either chapter 3 or 4, as I want the first couple of chapters to showcase some of Harry's training by Voldemort. There will also be a few memories of these events sprinkled throughout the story too. Oh, and expect deaths at some point throughout the story too…I mean, there's been five in this chapter alone:
James, Lily, Pettigrew (though I doubt anyone cares), and two random muggles. So yeah, expect death sooner or later.
But that's all for now. I hope you enjoyed and I will see you all next time, in whatever story I see you in.
Badger Out
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