Chapter Text
Chapter 1:
New Chapter
After the Hogwarts Express stopped at platform 9 ¾, after families had joyously reunited, after another school year had ended, most students looked forward to the summer holidays filled with fun. Well, all but one student that is. The platform was almost completely empty when last student, a fifth year, exited the train. He carried no luggage with him, having shrunk and pocketed it before the journey home. He stood at a slight 5’4” with shaggy black hair that hung past his chin, rail thin frame, pale skin and bright green, broken eyes. Eyes that have known pain, felt grief, harbored anger, witnessed death and expressed desperation. Those haunting eyes belonged to one Harry James Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, Savior of the Wizarding World, Scion of Dumbledore’s Light campaign and the Ministry of Magick’s Whipping Boy.
Having just finished his fifth year at Hogwarts, he should have been somewhat relieved that the OWLs exams were over and done with and he wouldn’t have face testing like that until Seventh year with the NEWTs. What he wouldn’t give to feel like a normal teenager. But being Harry Potter means having to solve the world’s problems and right now the world’s biggest problem is a self-proclaimed Dark Lord named Voldemort, a halfblooded, snake-faced bastard and his army of Dark pure blood supremacist wizards, witches and dark creatures. Harry knew since he was eleven that he had a target on his back, he was just wasn’t sure why. Every year Voldemort made an appearance and another attempt on his life near the end of the school year. By now, Harry expected it. However this year Voldemort managed to hit Harry harder than before.
Two weeks ago Harry and five other students were lured to the Ministry’s Department of Mysteries under the belief that Sirius Black, Harry’s godfather, was being held captive and tortured there. In the Department’s Hall of Prophecy Harry finds a prophecy orb with his own and Voldemort’s name on it. Then the Death Eaters showed up lead by Lucius Malfoy, demanding the orb to be handed over. Having deciphered that it was a trap and the prophecy was the real goal, Harry pocketed the orb, and all hell broke loose. The students lead the Death Eaters on a deadly goose chase through various Halls, before reinforcements in the form of the Order of the Phoenix arrived and a battle resumed in the Death Chamber.
Among the firing of spells Harry sees Sirius dueling with Bellatrix Lestrange when suddenly a stunner knocks Sirius of his feet and sends him flying through the Veil of Souls never to return. Remus was the only thing stopping Harry from following one of few adults that he ever truly trusted and loved. That was when something inside of Harry snapped. He chased after Bellatrix, dueled her and even tried casting the Cruciatis curse in blind anger. Then Voldemort appeared taunting him, mocking his grief. After throwing a few curses, Harry experienced mind blowing pain as he was possessed by Voldemort. Dumbledore chose that moment to come to the rescue, during which battle Harry’s memory of what exactly happened blurred. He could only recall what went on within his own mind as he fought against Voldemort.
When the battle was over, back at Hogwarts everyone was sent to the hospital wing for treatment except Harry, who was the only one to escape the battle unscathed. He followed Dumbledore to his office where his eyes were opened even further to goings on of the Headmaster. Everything came into focus with such clarity. He could recall every encounter he ever had with every magickal being. The amount of smoke that was lies, manipulation and betrayal was enough to choke on. In his turmoil of grief, anger, sadness, pain and betrayal Harry’s magic lashed out in a tornado of anguish, ripping through the room destroying everything, including but not limited to the numerous charmed devices that monitored Harry’s Life force, Magic and all the Blocks on it. In that moment Harry renounced Dumbledore, the Light and their cause. He vowed to fight his way out from under the thumb of control on his life by whatever means necessary.
After running from the office Harry took refuge in the Room of Requirement, where he asked the Room to hide him from the Headmaster and rest of the school. He stayed there for the last two weeks of school, only reappearing for his last exams as required, before avoiding all his friends and their questions, the teachers with their lectures and disappeared back into hiding. When it was time to leave Hogwarts, Harry had all his belongings (brought to him courtesy of the Room) shrunken and in pockets before he sneaked out, passed the mayhem of students and the teachers that were still looking for him, down to Hogsmead Station and onto the Express where he locked and warded a compartment with numerous privacy and avoidance charms.
Now that he was back in England, he had to start putting a few things he needed to do in motion. First things first, he had to silence the muggles. Walking through Kings Cross Station he kept his head down and his body language was sullen and submissive, but his eyes were hard with cold anger and determination. Anyone looking for him, namely the Order, would have seen a depressed teenager. Up ahead near the exit his Uncle Vernon stood with his arms crossed and looking rather irritated with a reddish hue coloring his face. When he spotted his nephew, and his lack of luggage and that blasted owl, he became suspicious.
“Hurry up, boy.” He groused, “I want to get home at a decent hour.”
“Hello, Uncle Vernon.” Harry’s voice was quiet but hard.
“Where is your shit, boy? If I have to go traipsing about looking-”
“Don’t worry about my shit, Uncle. It’s been taken care of. After dinner tonight, I have something to tell everyone. Trust me, you will like what I have to discuss with you.”
Vernon’s interest was piqued. “Humph. Let’s go then.”
Harry smiled secretly. “Yes, Uncle Vernon.” He knew his plan would work; it depended on the infallible arrogance, laziness and greed that his relatives were known for. The hardest part of the plan was a fruition of Harry’s closest guarded secret. For years he had hidden himself behind a mask of the expectations everyone had foisted on him. From a young age he hid his intelligence because he would be punished for getting better scores than Dudley. When he started Hogwarts he continued the trend, at first in order to please his friends. By letting Hermione be the best and being only slightly better than Ron he achieved a balance that kept them content. When he found out in Second year that they were being paid to his friends and keep tabs on him for Dumbledore he let them continue to think that he was oblivious to their spying and lies. After that he watched everyone in the school closely and created his own network of spies. He would often sneak away to study on his own, and in doing so found a hidden love for potions. Tonight he was going use one of the many concoctions that would most likely get him expelled and arrested should he be found with it in his possession.
He also discovered a talent with sharp objects and not just the recognized weapons that could be confiscated. He always carried sharpened quills, and needles hidden in his robes. His other interests revolved around arithmancy, the science of transfiguration, advanced charms, and his favorite: Ancient Runes and Rituals.
He became rather Slytherin in his ways of deceiving the whole school and the wizarding world at the same time. Now he going to put thing in motion and do his Marauder heritage proud by pulling the largest prank ever.
The car ride to Privet Drive was uneventful and as soon as they were in the drive Harry was out of the car and in the house. He didn’t bother going upstairs, there was nothing up there that he needed. He went straight to the kitchen and began to fix dinner for everyone. He had to make everything look like a regular night at the Dursley household before he really set the stage. With a regular meal of meatloaf, potatoes and parsnips and asparagus with a salad and hot rolls, and sweet humming bird cake cooling on the side. Harry took his time setting the table and airing the wine. When it was done, he went over his check list for everything he would need after dinner. With a smirk that he regrettably hid, he called his family to the dining room. He didn’t set with them.
“Alright, boy, what is it you want to talk about?” Vernon grouched from the table.
“What is the occasion for my good wine to be opened?” Asked Petunia
“It’s nothing that can’t wait until after dinner. Please enjoy yourselves and then we can talk and I’ll explain the wine.”
Harry let everyone sit and serve themselves as he stood behind the kitchen counter near the sink with his own plate and wine glass hidden from view. He pretended to be busy with something since he was never allowed to eat with the family. However, he was keenly aware of the clink of glass and the gulping of drinks. It only took ten minute before a boring dinner, became a dramatic affair. And then his smirk became deadly when the sound of choking reached his ears. He looked up to see all three Dursleys were red in the face and in varying positions of distress.
He pulled his plate to him and lifted his glass in a toast and took a healthy drink before tucking in on his hard work. Vernon went from tomato red to a violent shade of purple quickly his breaths getting desperate. Petunia tried to perform the Heimlich maneuver on herself which was rather hilarious to watch. Dudley was on his hands and knees trying force himself to spit up whatever was choking him. All three had ingested the hidden potion that would cause their demise.
It was the liquid form of a blood curdling hex that made the victims organs shut down and the heart explode, it started with choking as blood filled damaged lungs, then things got messy. Intestines and bladders would burst and void as the stomach expelled its contents either outward or inward, both were equally painful. And finally the heart would give one more mighty effort before the victim suddenly spewed blood and bile signally the impending damage to the heart. It was a rather gruesome death made longer by the shear amount of pain inflicted. Harry watched with his head cocked to the side in mild fascination as each Dursley fell dead. In the total twenty-seven minutes it had taken, Harry finished his dinner and desert. He put his now clean dishware away and began to move about the house. He pulled two small soft pouches out of his pocket, set them on the counter and touched them with a concentrated touch of magic that allowed them to enlarge to the size of a pair of human livers. The balloons were filled with Harry’s own blood that he had carefully and slowly donated over the past weeks just for this night. He took one of the pouches to the front hallway. He opened that thrice damned cupboard and stared dispassionately at his own hell hole of ten years. This chapter of his life was over.
He used one of his needles to puncture the balloon and set about laying blood on the walls and the door. Then he put the balloon on the floor to drip for a few seconds before pulling it along the floor of the hall toward the living room. Harry set the balloon in the middle of the floor to drain while he gladly trashed the place upsetting and moving furniture, breaking the vases and hung photos, smashing the prized television and putting a few holes in the drywall. It felt good to get revenge for all the years of abuse and neglect at the hands of these ignorant animals. When Harry finished he was slightly winded and the bag of blood on the floor had left a nice sized pool in Petunia’s precious white carpet. He went back to the kitchen for the second bag and set the first to burn in the sink. The second bag he punctured as well and used it to spray most of the trashed living room. When he was done it truly looked like a murder scene.
The final touch was the Dark Mark he painted with his blood on the wall behind the blood pool. He burnt the second bag then he went through the house one final time and then began looting for money and valuables. When he was satisfied with a job well done, he walked out the front door, left it wide open and walked down the street, closing that chapter of his life forever. There was no turning back now. Harry James Potter was dead. The Light will be tripping over themselves to find him and the Dark might celebrate at first, but suspicion will run high soon about who was responsible . Now it was time to open a new chapter.