Dark Rage: The Manipulator
~*Beginnings*~
***
Darkness lies in the eye of the storm.
***
It had been storming for the past two and a half weeks in the area surrounding Little Whinging, Surrey. With each passing day it grew larger, stronger, and more ominous. It was most unusual, everyone agreed; none of them had ever witnessed or even heard about a storm lasting for more than a couple of days at most.
Muggle scientists were busy trying to find the source of such a storm. The theories on its creation ranged between a `major climate shift' to the desalinization of the oceans.
European wizards, however, were completely baffled. It couldn't have been made by magic, could it? Seriously, wizards don't have the power to create storms. Or do they? It was a very uncomfortable thought. If wizards were able to make storms, then the only person capable of it at the moment would be He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. It was a thought that would make one shiver. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was already the most powerful wizard on the planet, but if he could make storms…..It's the end of us all! Some thought.
There was one person, however, who could care less at the moment about some stupid storm. The young man, Harry Potter, had his thoughts focused on one thing and one thing only-the death of his mentor and friend Albus Dumbledore. However, unlike with Sirius, Harry did not believe himself guilty for Dumbledore's death. It was all Snape's fault. When I get my hands on his neck... There was a thrash of lightning and a roar of thunder outside as Harry felt intense hatred flowing through his veins.
Harry stood up in his small room, his head almost touching the now low to him ceiling. Over the past two and a half weeks he had grown and filled out considerably. Maybe it was due to the fact that he was allowed to eat now over the summer. Knowing that Harry was almost an adult had scared the Dursleys so much that he now had as much freedom as he wanted. For most of the days this summer, Harry had watched the muggle news and read the wizarding paper-the Daily Prophet. There were multiple Death Eater attacks every day.
Muggles didn't understand the Dark Mark though and could not find a significant cause of death on any victims of attacks. The only theory so far was the one that had been used in the past-the victims were scared to death. But to Harry and other wizards, the cause of death was apparent-the unstoppable killing curse.
And every time there was an attack, the angrier Harry became. Voldemort was after HIM, and was killing all those on the road to Harry. Harry was the only one who possessed the abilities to stop Voldemort, and every death put more guilt in Harry's heart. More people were dying because Harry could not put a stop to Voldemort. The compounding deaths were taking a toll on him; his burdens felt heavier and heavier with each passing day.
***
"Hello Harry."
Harry spun around on the spot, trying to find the source of the voice. "Who-Who's there?" he called out.
"I'm right here," the voice said from behind him. Harry spun around-there was nothing there.
"Where?" he called out.
"Right next to you." Harry turned to find himself face to face with a shadowy version of himself. Then, without warning, the shadowy person leaped at Harry. But instead of taking him to the ground, the shadow went inside him. Harry screamed in agony.
Harry took a huge gulp of air as he woke. He flung off the covers of his bed and looked at his exposed skin. There was nothing there. Sighing in relief that it was just a dream, Harry tried to settle back down to sleep. Sleep never came for the rest of that night.
***
It had been four days now since Harry slept. He was afraid to even close his eyes for a moment now. He had been having…disturbing visions lately. His nightmares of late had been of torturous nature. The shadow that had been in his dream before came back again and again, but each time the nightmares seemed to grow longer. His last one had been most disturbing. It had started out as the scene in which Dumbledore was killed right before his eyes. He watched Dumbledore plead with Snape, and then watched, unable to help Dumbledore, as he was murdered.
But then the scene replayed; and instead of Snape standing before Dumbledore, Harry had his wand pointed towards the helpless Headmaster of Hogwarts. A tiny whispering sound reached his ears.
Kill him.
And Harry listened as the whisper washed over him, filling him with a darkness that had not been there before. With his wand pointed at his pleading mentor, Harry uttered two words unforgivable.
"Avada Kedavra."
Dumbledore slumped to the ground, lifeless, and the fear still showing on Dumbledore's lifeless eyes brought him a feeling of power he had never yet before felt. It made Harry believe himself to be invincible.
You've done well.
The whispering spoke again, and Harry was glad that he had pleased the voice. But then, the darkness began to fade, and the realization of what he had done hit him full force. He instantly woke up and had not closed his eyes since.
The unending consciousness was making him extremely tired; but he dared not sleep. The addictive feeling of power he had gotten from `killing' his Headmaster frightened Harry.
***
Harry had not received any mail so far. Not a single owl had arrived at his window. Harry was quite pissed. It seemed that breaking up with Ginny had caused her to not want to talk to him anymore; and with Ron and Hermione seemingly together, they probably had no want to talk to him, being too busy with each other.
Not only had that upset him, but now Harry's owl Hedwig gone missing. He had let her out to hunt one night, and she never came back. Hedwig had been a gift from Hagrid-his first friend-and now she had gone and disappeared somewhere. Harry let out a cry of anger. Thunder could be heard; rolling in from afar.
***
Everywhere there was darkness. Light did not exist in this realm: only the total black of lightless world.
There were voices, dark ones, demonic ones. They were echoing throughout the dark and desolate place. They mingled, intertwined; growing in volume and maliciousness.
They reached Harry's ears, yet Harry could not decipher what they were saying. It sounded almost like…
"Avada Kedavra, maybe?" It was the voice of that shadow version of himself, the one who was part of several of his nightmares.
Harry spun to face him, but he could not see anything in this unending blackness.
"Say it with me, Harry."
"No." Harry was not going to have happen in this dream what happened in the other one. It still brought shivers to him just thinking about it.
"Say it," the voice demanded.
"No."
"Say it!"
"No!"
"SAY IT NOW!"
"SHUT UP!!"
Harry felt the darkness start to fill him up again as his frustration with the voice grew. It began traversing throughout his veins; like a poison it spread to every part of his body. The darkness then reached his mind, and all coherent thought left as it took control of Harry's mental functions.
"Say it," the voice repeated venomously, quietly this time; nothing but a whisper.
"Avada Kedavra." Harry did as he was told and saw the unstoppable killing curse eject from his wand.
Harry woke up to a flash of green light-a flash he had seen many times before-and the faint laugh of the voice that was in his recurring nightmares. Sweating profusely, Harry glanced around his room. It was light outside. Good, Harry thought, Uncle Vernon's most likely at work, Dudley's probably off with his friends, and Aunt Petunia's probably…doing something. At least I won't have to deal with them for a while. He continued looking around. The far wall of his room was smoking slightly, and there was a large black scorch mark surrounding a jagged hole in the drywall.
Uh oh.
He was in serious trouble now. Not only had he damaged his Uncle's home, he had also cast the most dangerous and illegal curse; and knowing how the Ministry of Magic liked to pick on him for underage magic use, he would most likely have his wand destroyed and get shipped to Azkaban soon.
He quickly got all of his stuff together so that he could leave in a hurry if need be. Usually, the Ministry responded to magic use in under a half hour.
No letter ever came in the next hour, and Harry thanked all the deities and gods out there that he could be so lucky. His anxiety eased at the possibility of being sent to prison and he relaxed for a little while on his bed.
***
"The colossal storm that recently began to plague a small town in England has now spread across the country, heading towards the mainland. Scientists and meteorologists alike are still trying to find the cause of such a powerful storm. So far it shows no sign of stopping. Jay the Weatherman will explain more-"
Harry had been walking down from his room later that night to find the Dursley family's eyes glued to the television. All of them were worried about this `unending storm', and had not missed any new updates that had been posted the last couple of days. Harry on the other hand, was not worried but rather intrigued by the storm. He had never heard of one lasting so long, and he was beginning to wonder if whether what was in the Daily Prophet was true. Maybe it was created by magic.
Anyways, Harry left the living room and entered the kitchen to get himself something to eat. He hadn't had any food for a while now, and was dead starving. He opened the fridge and found a leftover steak. He reheated it in the microwave and when it was finished, he sat down to eat.
"Hey," said Dudley as he too walked into the kitchen, "that's my steak!"
"Mine now," said Harry as he took a rather large bite of the delicious meat. "Mmm that's good," he taunted. He smiled inwardly as he saw his cousin long for the steak.
"Give it," said Dudley, his face expressionless.
"No," said Harry with a smile. He loved irritating his cousin. Besides, his cousin didn't need the steak; he could just use the stored energy in his metric ton of blubber.
"I want my steak back," Dudley whined. Instantly, Aunt Petunia arrived at the sound of her son's displeased voice.
"What is it Diddikins?" she asked, looking sweetly at her beloved son and then glaring at Harry.
"He has my steak," Dudley said, trying his best to win his mother over and have her confiscate it from his hated cousin.
"You, boy!" she barked at Harry. "That's our food, not yours! Give my son back his rightful meal!"
"Nope, not going to happen," said Harry with a smug smile.
Harry's Uncle Vernon then entered the room at the shout of his wife. "What's going on?" he asked his wife. She explained the situation.
"Boy! You don't deserve that food! We worked for it while you did nothing but lounge about all day!" his Uncle snapped.
"Yea, I'll bet you did," said Harry coolly. He was quite enjoying this.
"Give it to me you ungrateful son of a whore!" Aunt Petunia clapped her hands over her mouth, looking shocked at what Dudley had just said.
The whole tone of the room changed instantly. He stood up to his full height, and found that he was taller than everybody in the room. Harry looked at his cousin, his eyes alight with fury. "My mother was not a whore," he said coldly.
Dudley and the rest of the Dursley family began to back away from him as Harry's eyes began to glow. The lights started to flicker, and soon they went out completely. The hair on the back of their necks and on their arms began to stand up as a small crackling sounded in the room. Lightning flashed and thunder crashed as Harry advanced towards them. All that could be seen in the darkness was the light given off from Harry's pupil-less red eyes.
"I mean it boy, stop this nonsense this instant!" Uncle Vernon tried to issue a threat, but the wavering in his voice completely sent it down the drain.
"Or what?" asked Harry, his voice filled with a cold fury. "Will you beat me and lock me in the cupboard under the stairs like you used to?" Harry's questions went unanswered. Darkness began to rise up in his body again. Blood was pounding in his ears. The darkness touched his mind…all coherent began to take its leave…
Harry grabbed his cousin's shirt by the collar and looked at him straight in the eye. He saw the fear there and he knew that it was because of him that the fear was there. The addictive feeling returned, and he needed to feel more.
He raised his wand and pointed it at his cousin's face….
***
A/N: I hope you liked this chapter. I decided to skip straight to the action and the darkness first revealing itself to Harry. And, just to let you know, this story starts out dark and will be dark throughout its entire telling. Also, the following chapters should be longer than this, so don't worry about the length of this fic.
Reviews are greatly appreciated.
The Dark Sorceror
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