Beware My Power
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.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Before anyone says anything in the reviews, know this is the edited rewrite of the original Beware My Power fic.
The other fic onsite – Beware My Power: Death Of A Hero – is an alternate-event variation of this fic and the only similarities exist in the opening chapter; it's clear in both versions where it differs.
So, again, this is a different tale; the only thing the same is the opening.
Key Pairings: Harry/Gabrielle; Ron/Hermione
Normal Speech
'Thoughts'
'Mental Speech'
/Parseltongue/
Chapter 1: Opening Pandora's Box
Fear.
Darkness.
Damnation.
Death.
Harry felt all these things coursing through his veins, infesting his mind and soul like a plague of nightmarish demons as he was forced to not only watch as his worst nightmare unfolded before his very eyes, but he was also forced to help bring this nightmare back to the world.
The nightmare in question being the horrifying return of the Dark Lord Voldemort, alias one Tom Marvolo Riddle, a wraith who was supposed to be dead and gone. Now, that same return was happening right in front of him, thanks to the assistance from the cowardly, traitorous rodent, Wormtail, as well as a few drops of Harry's blood.
Watching as his, if not the world's darkest nightmare unfolded, Harry was sure he wasn't alone in noticing how the world seemed to turn cold and dark as the revived Dark Lord rose from the ruins of his arcane ritual, taking his first breath, savouring the feeling of life being given back to him.
After retrieving his wand from Wormtail, however, Voldemort seemed to hesitate as he looked from the rodent to the boy wrapped up in the arms of the stone angel. When he did so, his blood-red eyes seemed to glow with a fiery malevolence that made Harry's blood turn colder than it already was while, at the same time, the Dark Lord smiled a truly evil smile as he saw Harry looking at him in fear and rage.
"Thank you, Harry," hissed Voldemort, breaking the silence that followed his resurrection, "You have no idea how much I owe you, but don't be afraid. Soon, you will understand: Wormtail…go and fetch our special friend's reward, would you?"
To Harry's curiosity, Wormtail turned and left, leaving the Boy-Who-Lived alone with the Dark Lord, as well as the body of Cedric Diggory. While Wormtail retrieved whatever it was Voldemort had dispatched him to recover, the Dark Lord looked around the cemetery before, humming softly, if not amusingly, he returned his attention to Harry as he smiled again.
"Oh, Harry; things have gone pear-shaped tonight, haven't they?"
"Screw you!" growled Harry, earning an amused snigger from the Dark Lord.
"I suspect one of my most-faithful might indulge that wish, my young friend," drawled Voldemort, earning a snarl from Harry.
"We are not friends, Tom! You are a monster, a demon, a murderer! And whatever reward you have for me, I promise, I'll spit back in your face…I'd say throw, but I'm a little tied-up at the moment!"
To Harry's disbelief, Voldemort laughed, but, for once, it wasn't a high, cold, cruel laugh.
Instead, it was a genuinely-amused laugh, as though they were friends sharing a particularly-funny joke.
Tom even wiped a stray tear from his eye as he nodded, "Ha; tied-up! Yes…very droll, Harry; you're welcome to try and spit my gift in my face, but, I assure you, young man: you will fail!"
"Never stopped me before," sneered Harry, earning a scoff from Voldemort as he shrugged ruefully, as though he agreed with Harry.
"Touché…anyway…ah, thank you, Wormtail," said Voldemort as the rodent returned, holding what looked like a small, black box, which, if Harry was being honest, didn't look all that impressive. It was black, roughly the size of a Quaffle and…well, that was it.
There were no distinguishing markings, no dents or chips in its seemingly-flawless surface, no runic images to suggest what the box was for.
In all honesty, it looked like nothing more than a box that one might receive in a delivery.
And yet, as Voldemort took the box from Wormtail's treacherous hands, the Dark Lord smiled as he shifted his hold on the box, so that it was tucked under one arm before, with the other hand, he lifted his wand, "Very good, Peter; now…hold out your arm. If we're going to give dear, sweet, helpful Harry my gift, then our friends really should bear witness."
Again, Wormtail didn't even argue, which confused Harry further, though, at that moment, he was more interested in whatever it was that Voldemort claimed he was going to be giving Harry…and how Harry might be able to spit the gift back in the Dark Lord's ophidian face.
Meanwhile, Voldemort, along with Wormtail, watched with silent awe, as well as delight, as the Dark Lord used the coward's Dark Mark to call the faithful back to their master's side.
One by one, the Death Eaters assembled, though curiously, only a small number – eight, in total…nine counting Wormtail – seemed to heed the call to arms, though Voldemort didn't seem all that bothered by this revelation. Instead, he watched with amusement, if not an evil, sadistic look in his eyes, as his supposedly-faithful all returned to their master's side, each one of them kneeling in homage to the dark power that stood before them.
Once the last of them – whom, from the cane, Voldemort knew to be Lucius Malfoy, which he knew would make what was about to happen much funnier – had returned to the Dark Lord's side, Voldemort drew in a slow breath before he smiled coldly as he spoke to his followers.
"Welcome, my friends…thirteen years, it's been. And yet, here we stand, as though it were only yesterday…our numbers reduced, our influences diluted and dwindled away to ephemera…our power…broken…fragmented…but, no matter. For you, my most-faithful, my true believers, to use a Muggle reference, I am proud, relieved and thankful."
Turning, Voldemort pointed his wand at Harry, the sight of whom made one or two of the Death Eaters murmur excitably, especially Lucius, whom Voldemort heard scoff at the boy's vulnerable state, as he continued with what Harry guessed was a very well-rehearsed speech.
"And, as amazing as it's going to sound, my brothers, my resurrection…my return to greatness…is all thanks to him. Harry James Potter, last scion of the oldest-surviving pure-blood family in history. A boy whom, I'm not ashamed to confess, is ripe with potential…yes, my friends, regardless of his unfortunate spawning…but, then again, it was dear, sweet Lily Potter who gave young Harry the means to defeat me as an infant."
"Lies!"
"He's just a filthy half-blood!"
"Let me kill him for you, Master!"
"No, me!"
"SILENCE!" Exclaimed Voldemort, quietening the faithful's arguments, "Look at you; once the prime example of superiority in this world, but now, you're children: all of you…crying out Daddy loves me the best…oh, aren't ordinary people adorable?"
Weirdly, the remark brought a smirk to Harry's face.
Although the Death Eaters were supposed to be the cream of the crop, they lapped up their Lord's mocking tone and derogatory remarks, choosing to kneel and worship him, which Harry noticed Tom was amused by, "Look at you! Small, helpless things stuck in the darkness, all trying helplessly to begin clawing at the light, begging for scraps. All wanting to rise up and compete to take a higher spot in the pecking order because you think you know what I want…but you couldn't be more wrong!"
A collective flinch spread through the Death Eaters as he finished his tirade, while Voldemort shook his head slowly, "You all desire to earn your stripes by killing this child, even though he is the reason I walk the earth again! Tell me, do you honestly believe this is what I want?"
"Yes, Lord."
"Of course."
"Potter tried to destroy you!"
"He deserves to die!"
To Voldemort's amusement, he fired off several loud bangs from the end of his wand, a la Albus Dumbledore, silencing the roars of protest and toadying exclamations, before he scoffed again, "You see? Children."
Turning back to Harry, who was watching with a determined glint in his eyes, the Dark Lord sighed before he clicked his tongue, shaking his head amusingly, if not disbelievingly, "I don't know; you just can't get the staff these days, can you, Harry? Ah, but of course, you of all people should know about that. After all, thanks to my little curse, you've had…what is it? Four new Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers at Hogwarts?"
Harry scoffed, while Voldemort sighed, "Ah well, might as well skip the prologue…you see, my friends…"
He looked to the Death Eaters once more, "Contrary to very popular belief, I do not desire this boy's death, nor do I seek him to be harmed, least of all by any of you. Instead, I have called you all together to bear witness to me offering a small token of my gratitude to young Mister Potter…a trifle, really, but something that will make the future very interesting indeed."
"Fuck you, Riddle!" snarled Harry, earning an amused snigger from the Dark Lord as he looked to Lucius.
"Remind me to inform Bellatrix that Harry seeks to give her what she's always wanted, will you, my slippery friend?"
Beneath his mask, Lucius trembled as he heard a mocking, sarcastic drawl lacing his lord's words, in response to Harry's challenge.
Voldemort, meanwhile, turned back to Harry, "In the meantime, Harry, let's face it; you aren't exactly in a position to argue against me offering you this trinket, but, since you seem to be all-too eager to be ungrateful, let me sweeten the pot…"
Here, he lifted his wand before pointing at Wormtail, who still looked clueless while Voldemort explained, "Let me give you my gift, my young friend, and, on my honour, I promise Wormtail will be yours! Which, unless my memory is failing me, would also mean your dear, doting dogfather, Sirius Black, would have the freedom denied to him by Peter's cowardice thirteen years ago."
A dumbfounded, if not alarmed look flashed across Harry's face, while Voldemort smiled, "Yes, I thought that would earn your favour, my young saviour…an irony, isn't it? The one you destroyed calling you what everyone else does; now, Harry, to accept my gift, all you have to do is…"
Crossing the space between Harry and the Death Eaters, Voldemort lifted the box to the boy as he smiled again, "Open up."
"What?" asked Harry, earning a cold laugh from Voldemort.
"You heard me, Harry…I said open up!"
On the last words, Voldemort flicked his wand in Harry's direction, causing the boy's head to snap to attention.
At the same time, the Death Eaters watched as Harry's lower jaw trembled and quivered, while the boy grunted in exertion as the power of the Dark Lord hit him. A power he knew, thanks to Moody's classes, was that of the Imperius Curse; unfortunately for Voldemort, Harry had been proven as being able to throw off the curse's power.
'Open your mouth,' whispered a small voice in his mind, earning a struggling round of grunts and growls from Harry.
'No.'
'It's all right,' the same voice replied, 'It's a gift, remember? Just open your mouth!'
'Never!'
'Open your mouth!'
'NO!'
"Ah…of course…how silly of me," drawled Voldemort, lifting his curse, "You are one of a very small number who can throw off that curse, aren't you, Harry? Once again, you show your potential…very well; if force won't convince you, we'll go with doing it willingly."
"Good…good luck, Tom!" growled Harry, spitting in the Dark Lord's face, earning snarls from the Death Eaters, "What…whatever you have to offer me, I…I'll never accept it…willingly, or otherwise!"
"So, it would seem," said the Dark Lord, wiping Harry's spit from his cheek, "A pity; with this, you would have become more powerful than you can imagine. Powerful enough to protect those dear to you…or bring back those whose sacrifices were unnecessary."
"Using my parents won't work this time, Riddle," growled Harry, shaking his head, "I've gotten over their deaths; even if it means I never get the chance to get a family, I still won't give you the satisfaction. So, like that pathetically greasy prick, my mouth…my teeth are clamped shut!"
"As you wish," replied Voldemort, humming nonchalantly, "I mean, I can't make you accept my gift, and it's pointless to try…so, you might as well be free, Harry. And then you can go back, you can be their hero…you can be…well, you."
"Fine!"
"But before you go back to Hogwarts," said the Dark Lord, looking to Harry with amusement, "Allow me to share one truth with you, my friend."
Before Harry could stop him, Voldemort charged forwards, so the two of them were now inches apart, before the Dark Lord jabbed his wand into the left side of Harry's temples.
As the boy-wizard went to ask what was happening, he heard a series of voices echo in his mind…
'So, in the end…the boy must die…'
'Yes…he must die…but it is all for the Greater Good…and Harry will understand that…'
'I'm ready to die…'
'Good boy, Harry…thank you for your sacrifice…'
"NO!" Snarled Harry, keeping his teeth clenched together as he snarled, "What…what was that? Those voices…well, I mean one was Snivellus and the other was Dumbledore…but…but I was speaking too! And I…I said I…I was…"
/Ready to die,/ hissed Voldemort, earning a horrified look from Harry as the Dark Lord addressed him in Parseltongue – or so Harry guessed, given the shivery, dread-filled looks in the postures of the Death Eaters – his voice tinged with absolute truth and finality.
/And, one day, Harry, because of our acquaintance, you will be. He knows it, because every move he's made was made with the goal of making you ready. I mean, do you find it convenient how much has happened since you came to Hogwarts? The Stone? The Chamber? The Basilisk? Black? The Dementors? The Tournament? Year-in-year-out, who is thrust into the spotlight? You; who leaves you to suffer until the time is right for him to swoop in and save you? Albus…and why? Because, in his mind, your death is a necessary one…just like your parents were…/
/Shut your mouth!/ hissed Harry, Parseltongue rolling off of his lips now as he glared daggers at Voldemort.
The Dark Lord, however, smiled sadly as he indicated Wormtail, /He knew Peter couldn't be trusted…/
/No,/ gasped Harry, tears rolling down his cheeks.
/He knew Sirius wouldn't betray them, not for love, nor money, nor power…/
/Stop it!/
/He knew those Muggles would treat you worse than a slave!/
/No…that's not…he wouldn't…/
/And he knows, to this day, that Sirius Black…is…innocent! But, rather than do anything, Albus would sooner see him do what he wants you to do…die! And, just like Mummy and Daddy, he will claim it a noble sacrifice…all for the Greater Good!/
"NOOOOOOOOO!"
A terrible, gut-wrenching scream tore out of Harry, pain, horror, rage, disbelief and sorrow lacing that one word.
As Harry screamed in soul-breaking agony, the emotion behind it was so powerful that, caught in the raging tempest of negative emotions as he was, Harry didn't notice his jaws parting, opening his mouth as Voldemort wanted.
Voldemort did, however, and, with a tap of his wand, he opened the box…
And something flew out of it.
Something thick, pseudo-slimy in appearance, glowing with magical force and dark energy, and fixed on the open mouth before it.
Something that, although neither Harry nor Voldemort knew it yet, would decide not only the fate of the Chosen One.
But hold, in his hands, the fate of Magic itself…
BMP
"What…what is that thing?"
"What is our Lord doing?"
"Potter…why doesn't he just kill him? Why does he need some…thing to help?
"Oh no!"
As he watched, Lucius Malfoy's eyes widened in horror before his mask fell from his face as he watched the strange, dark entity fly out of the box in the Dark Lord's hand, lunging at the screaming teenager bound to the stone. When it hit the boy, the thing started to burrow its way into Harry's thrashing, screaming body, forcing its way down his gullet, muffling his terrified, over-alarmed and beyond-broken scream, while the strange-looking creature slithered, like a giant worm-slash-serpent, into the body, the gullet and the belly of the Boy-Who-Lived.
As the last of the creature vanished down the throat of the teenage Gryffindor, Lucius looked on in sheer horror, fearful of what he saw as he watched his Lord take a step back, his red eyes shining with self-satisfied victory as he watched and waited for Harry to respond to what happened.
Lucius, however, shook his head behind his lord's back as he asked one question of the unsuspecting man who'd defied death…
Only to invite it back in again with that…that thing, if it really was what Lucius feared it was.
'Tom…what have you done?'
BMP
"Harry?"
Frowning in curiosity, Voldemort looked his enemy up and down, watching and waiting with curiosity and confusion as he counted off the seconds before the thing he had just given Harry to would perform its duty.
Even as he waited, Voldemort knew the thing, a parasite of ancient, almost-demonic magical origin was making a home, a nest of sorts, in the belly of the Boy-Who-Lived, where, within minutes, it was supposed to have fully merged with him, devouring the boy's core, infecting his mind, body and soul and leaving a new, darker purpose in his mind.
One that would make the boy Voldemort's greatest weapon, most-feared servant and attack dog and then, at last, he would have won the war before it even began. Compared to what the new Harry could do, Voldemort's enemies would cower, beg for mercy and scream oaths of servitude, rather than facing the raven-haired demon that was going to be standing at the side of the Dark Lord…forever!
Still, it was strange that the transformation was taking so long.
Taking a step towards Harry, Voldemort leaned in close as he asked, "Can you hear me, my friend?"
A slow, shaky, almost-trembling whisper escaped Harry's body, like a cross between the hiss of a Basilisk and the deathly knell of a rattlesnake's tail, before Voldemort smiled proudly, if not coldly, as he nodded.
"It's all right, my young servant…it's going to be all…ack!"
Suddenly, Voldemort's crimson eyes widened in apparent horror when Harry's hand managed to somehow break free of his bonds, wrapping his pale, slender fingers around the Dark Lord's throat.
As Voldemort choked on his own air, Harry lifted his head, opening his eyes as he looked into the red eyes of the Dark Lord revealing two green eyes that shone so bright, and yet dark, in his face, they might as well have been a mix of viridian flames and green-coloured neon lightning that were collectively entombed in a never-ending wellspring of darkness.
And when Voldemort looked into the eyes of the boy before him, he felt fear well up inside of him.
Fear…and something else.
Something that told him there was only one way out of this, unless he was the one who'd wind up on the boy's hit-list.
It just meant having to say something…do something he wouldn't do normally.
Ye gods, was this what it was like to be one like Lucius, who'd used the Imperius as an excuse?
Was this what it felt to…to be terrified, but determined to look out for number one to the exclusion of all else?
BMP
As he scrambled for the boy's hand, Voldemort gasped out one word, "M…M…M…Master!"
The green eyes of the Boy-Who-Lived looked into the red eyes of the Dark Lord before, with almost-inhuman strength, Harry threw the Dark Lord back towards the Death Eaters, tossing him as easily as he would have tossed a ragdoll before, with a grunt, Harry smashed the arms binding him in place, leaving him floating in mid-air before the stunned, horrified, speechless and beyond-aggressive expressions of the Death Eaters.
As for the Darksiders, each one of them saw their lord go down and made one choice.
"AVADA KEDAVRA!"
"NO, YOU FOOLS!"
Well, almost all the Death Eaters made that choice.
However, the cry of Lucius Malfoy came too late to stop seven Killing Curses flying towards the Boy-Who-Lived, striking him hard and fast, kicking up a cloud of blackish-green dust and smoke with the impact.
As the Death Eaters cheered and crowed over their victory, however, only Lucius moved to lower himself down, laying his cane at his feet, while he made sure to bow very low, kissing the ground as he heard something that, with the exception of Lord Voldemort, nobody, but him knew was going to come from within the smoke.
"Oh…you'll have to do better than that!"
BMP
Fear.
Darkness.
Death!
All these things flooded the minds and hearts of the Death Eaters as they saw the remains from their onslaught dissipate, revealing something that not one of them could believe they were seeing as they stared at the thing that emerged from within the smoke and shadows.
Fourteen-year-old Harry James Potter, hovering in the air, his green eyes shining brighter than ever as he looked down at the Death Eaters, all of whom could not believe what they saw. Somehow, this filthy half-blood, this weakling who dared to defy the will of their Lord, was still alive after taking seven Killing Curses, and was now lording over them and looking down his nose at them with a cold, sinister, malefic look in his eyes.
As for said lord, he rose up before, stepping aside, he made the Death Eaters' blood turn to ice when they saw him bow to this thing before them, his voice carrying through the graveyard as he addressed the glowing, hovering boy.
"Take them, my little Lord…they are yours now; you know what you need, I'm sure! Well…take it…"
One Death Eater tried to Apparate…but was alarmed to discover he couldn't.
"No! We…we can't…how's this…"
Before that Death Eater could finish, he, along with the six others, screamed in abject terror as they felt their bodies put through a level of torture that made a Cruciatus from Bellatrix seem preferable. Their minds, hearts and their very souls were being sheared clean off of their existence, tearing through their blood and thoughts as though something deep inside was taking root, emerging into a thick, bloody, murderous redwood that would leave naught, but scraps in its wake after taking them out.
Then, one by one, the Death Eaters started glowing with a dark, inhumane light, which flowed out of their bodies like dust in the wind.
As they tried to pierce the darkness that flooded them, the Death Eaters heard a slow, almost-content slurping sound filling the air, accompanied by a wave of pure, ancient, raw Dark Magic that made them all feel more like babies before a fully-matured, fully-empowered deity.
As the waves flew out of them, one of the others, Avery, cried out in horror as the realisation hit him first, "He…he's…he's eating our…our magic!"
"Precisely," said Voldemort, looking to Lucius, who seemed to have realised what was happening and, like Tom, had chosen self-preservation over even the hatred he felt towards Harry Potter…or rather, to the old Harry Potter.
As he marvelled at his foolhardy follower's simple, self-serving decision, Voldemort addressed those who weren't so enlightened, "Such is the way of nature, my friends: the strong feeds on the weak! Now, young Harry will take the world! He will devour all who stands in his way, even if only because he wants to, as he tears down the Old World and remakes it in his image! But fear not; I want to thank you for being such eager offerings to His glory, coming here so subserviently as you did; rest assured, your wasted potentials are going to a much better cause, namely his lunch!"
"I'd say it's more like supper, if not a midnight snack," muttered Lucius, earning a soft titter from Voldemort as he watched while a scream filled the air from the other Death Eaters before the Dark Lord watched as the magic flew into the body of the reborn, dark-minded, clearly ravenous teenage demon, who slurped up the dregs like spaghetti before he licked his lips as he looked around the graveyard.
"Yum…tastes like moron…with a hint of fool and madman…"
Lifting his hands, Harry spread them out before he raised his head in a look of divine-born focus.
As Voldemort and Lucius watched, the wands of the seven sacrifices rose into the air before, one by one, they flew towards the godling.
Instead of going into his mouth, however, the wands flew into Harry's body, which seemed to absorb them as though his flesh were nothing but jelly moulds to be shaped. As the last wand passed into him, a wave of magical energy, stronger than anything the Ministry's trackers would have been able to pick up, flew out of Harry's body, making him glow with AK-green light as he lowered himself down to the ground.
Now, though, Harry looked much different…and not at all anything that might have been called the once-Boy-Who-Lived.
His body was taller, rivalling that of Voldemort, while his usually-untameable hair now covered his face like it was bathing his pale complexion in a halo-like aura of living darkness. This did nothing to hide his green eyes, nor the powerful, satisfied glow that filled them as Harry looked around, seeing Tom, the prostrate Lucius and the still-dopey-looking Wormtail, as well as seven cowering, horrified, frail-looking figures.
"Huh," drawled Harry, his voice colder than cold, edged by a snarl that made him sound like the demon he'd become. "Still alive, are we, my tasty terrorists and munchable murderesses? I'll soon change that, don't you worry."
Crabbe Senior made to run…and Harry snapped his fingers, transforming seven simpering Squibs into seven fat, portly black-furred mice.
And where mice lingered, so too did one of their many natural predators…and the Dark One knew this, as the use of Parseltongue proved.
/Now, I don't much care for the flesh of weaklings…so, Nagini? I know you're here; come out and have your dinner! It's on me!/
The fact that Harry had been the one to say the words was nothing compared to the sight of Voldemort's familiar pouncing on the transformed mice, her jaws parted as she lunged at them one by one, before she lifted her head up as she swallowed them whole, savouring the feast offered to her by the Dark God that stood in the centre of the ruined cemetery, watching with malefic satisfaction as he folded his arms and watched her devour his powerless, now-useless, expendable victims whole, alive and with absolute loyalty to the Apex Predator who'd given her this gift.
/You're welcome,/ hissed Harry, flicking his tongue like a snake himself, the sight of which brought a faint smirk to Voldemort's lips, given who was still waiting for Harry back at Hogwarts.
Merlin help him if he didn't make the right choice and serve this Dark Master.
Once the last mouse vanished down her gullet and filled Nagini's belly, earning a content hiss and a bow of the head from the deadly reptile, Harry smiled cruelly before he looked to Voldemort, who still looked like he'd rather be anywhere, but there.
"Now then, Tom…what was that you were saying about giving me the coward?"
"I give him to you, gladly, my…my young Lord," replied Voldemort, indicating the dopey Wormtail as he explained, "Don't worry about him fighting my magic's touch: in case you didn't realise it…"
"He's under the Imperius," said Harry in a matter-of-fact voice, scoffing amusingly, "Ironic, considering how the juicy snackrifices you just offered to me claimed they were under the Imperius when questioned…even you, right, Lucius?"
"Yes, Master," replied Malfoy, earning a scoff from Harry, while Lucius kept his eyes bowed, "Like my…my former comrades, I claimed to be under the Imperius, and called in favours to secure my freedom. Of course, as there were those like me and your…your sacrifices, there are also some, like Severus, who are only free because our enemies made their moves."
"Yes, I remember Dumbledore's Pensieve," said Harry, scoffing amusingly. "Now I think about it, I find it more convenient that it was that particular memory I saw when curiosity nearly led to the death of this cat. In that memory, he proclaimed Snape as a spy against the Dark and, I quote, told them today, he is no more a Death Eater than I am."
"You mean the event that preceded Bartimaeus' outing to his poor, unfortunate Father," replied Tom, earning another amused snort from Harry.
"If somebody didn't kill him, I probably would have; I found out the guy was responsible for Sirius being in Azkaban, and then there's what he did to me back at the World Cup when…wait a moment…hang on…"
Suddenly, a look of realisation flashed across Harry's face; as it did so, he looked to the red eyes of his new servant – and silently marvelling at how good it felt thinking of Voldemort as that.
In the meantime, he chuckled mirthfully as he mused, "That night…it was Crouch Junior I saw; the old coot claimed he was long-since dead, but when you consider my visions, my nightmares, the attack and sightings at the World Cup…then, there's how the supposed Professor seemed too eager to show off the Unforgivables, and what I saw on my Map. Ha…Merlin's beard: it's him, isn't it, Tom?"
"Yes, Master," replied Voldemort, earning an amused smile from Harry as he folded his arms again, amusement and a hint of delight lacing his dark, hungry gaze as he listened to Tom's explanation, "Bartimaeus Barty Crouch Junior, using Polyjuice Potion and, I admit, some impressive tactics to ensnare Alastor Moody…a feat that so many, including Lucius, have tried and failed to. He impersonated Moody."
"The flask," growled Harry, shaking his head disappointingly, "How did I not see it? I've used that potion: Snape dared to accuse me of brewing it, which means he must have known what Granger was up to…well, I'll make sure her ignorance isn't a factor anymore…and get what I want."
"How will you do that, my Lord?" asked Lucius.
"None of your business, Lucius," argued Harry, turning his eyes on Malfoy, "And, in case you're curious, you lowly insect, the reason I haven't fed you to Nagini is because, quite frankly, you're so pathetic and predictably-wormy that you're just not worth me wasting my hunger on."
Here, Harry smiled wolfishly, "Besides, why should I waste my revenge on you, Lucius, when you've got such a juicy snackrifice to offer, waiting for me at school? One I've allowed to cook for four years and, I think, will soon be ripe for the plucking…and the eating!"
"No, please, sire!" exclaimed Malfoy, throwing himself at Harry's feet, earning a scoff from Harry as the blond pleaded like the insect Harry said he was, looking more like Wormtail than the self-confident douchebag he'd been during their previous encounters at the end of Harry's second year and back during the Quidditch World Cup.
"Not…not my son, please, I…I beg you! I…I will do anything, swear anything! I will be your agent in the Ministry, your backer, your sanctum…"
"Oh, but surely you remember your own words, Lucius?" asked Harry, kicking Lucius in the head, "Two years ago, when I showed you exactly who the fuck you were dealing with…what was it you said? Let me see if I can remember…"
"I…I was angry…" pleaded Lucius, keeping his head to the floor, while Harry had kicked him hard enough to leave a knot on his forehead, "I…I only saw…saw a boy…not this…not my Lord, my Master, my God! Please, do…do whatever you wish to me, my Lord, but…please, spare my son!"
"Oh, yes, I remember," chuckled Harry, content with acting as though he hadn't heard Lucius' pathetic begging. "You said, and I quote: your parents were meddlesome fools too…one day soon, Potter, mark my words, you are going to meet the same…sticky…end! And then, when we met this past summer, what were your words? Oh yes…do enjoy yourself, won't you…while you can?"
"I…I just…I didn't…"
"I plan on enjoying myself, my slippery friend," drawled Harry, moving to Lucius, where he stepped on the man's back, pinning him to the ground beneath them, "And, since you were so kind in providing Draco with a superiority complex bigger than all of Hell and half of Texas, I see no reason why I shouldn't thank your bouncing baby for his kindness; hmm…what'd be more humiliating for Draco? Make him my new Wormtail…or make him sit there and moan like the gay boy he is while I suck out his magic like a vampire drinking his blood! What do you think, Lucy?"
"I…I…I beg of you…please, Master…"
"Oh, Lucius," sighed Voldemort, shaking his head as he indicated a smug Harry, "Can't you see it? He neither knows nor cares for your begging, nor pitiful excuses. The fact of the matter is you, like I, am an obstacle to him; an insect that needs to be squashed quickly…and using Draco, be it for food or for fun, is how he will squash you."
"Whereas you, Tom, are going to be crushed in an entirely different way, and even then, when I'm ready to do the crushing," replied Harry, pressing hard on Lucius' back, "For now, though, if only to show my gratitude for opening the doorways to my new, awesome powers, I'm going to allow you to live. You'll be my scapegoat, like what Albus wants old me to be; so, I'll take Wormtail to Hogwarts, have him declare your return and how he was responsible for it…"
After pushing down once more, Harry turned again before he walked past a bowing Voldemort, and a glass-eyed Wormtail, before he stopped over Cedric's corpse as he looked down at the teenage boy.
"But we won't be going back alone…"
BMP
A loud thud, and a cry of alarm filled the arena as every head looked down to see three different figures return from within the maze, two of whom were expected, whereas the third was weeping profusely, screaming for mercy and forgiveness.
As every member of the arena raced to the centre, however, a lone cry tore through their shock, fear, curiosity and celebrations at the return and victory of the two Hogwarts Champions.
"HE'S BACK! VOLDEMORT'S BACK! AND IF YOU CAN'T BELIEVEME,THEN WHY DON'T YOU ASK HIM?"
Now, all thoughts of celebration were banished, replaced with mind-numbing fear, terror and disbelief as the crowds saw Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory rise, holding the Triwizard Cup between them, while Harry had his eyes fixed on the cowering, screaming, pleading form of Peter Pettigrew, who screamed it for everyone to hear.
"I DID IT! I REVIVED THE DARK LORD! I BETRAYED THE POTTERS! I PUT POTTER'S NAME IN THE CUP! I DID IT! AND NOW, HE HAS RETURNED! PLEASE, SAVE ME FROM HIM! SAVE ME FROM THE DARK LORD!"
So, a slightly-altered Chapter 1 of this dark, insane adventure and it looks like Harry's become something more than human, but also more than Just Harry: how will he make an impact on both friend and foe alike?
Also – and it's a different way than the old version of this story, before anyone says anything – how is Cedric alive again?
What is Harry's plan for his closest friends?
And, perhaps the scariest question of all: what will happen if and when the Demon he has become gets hungry again?
Keep Reading to Find Out
Next Chapter: Harry has some more fun with his new powers, but a surprise confession from some interesting, tantalisingly-tasty new servants paves the way to a different kind of summer of fun for the Champion of Himself…
Please Read and Review