Post by Anime Monster on Sept 26, 2005 20:40:32 GMT -5
SUMMARY: Post OotP, Evil!Harry. After some accidental magic puts him on the run from the ministry Harry begins to doubt what he had been taught for years. Pre-HBP
RATING: PG-13
Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter or the song “Brain Damage” by Pink Floyd would I write the word disclaimer and be American?
Author’s Note: I hope this turns out better than my other stories are. I’m in a major writer’s block and hope this breaks me of it.
Please review.
Warnings: Insane!Harry, Super!Harry, Evil!Harry, Dark!Harry, Gothic!Harry, Independent!Harry, gruesome deaths, torture, rape, cursing (both magic and language), SPOILERS (first five books), AU, child abuse, slavery, etc.
Lyrics
The lunatic is on the grass
The lunatic is on the grass
Remembering games and daisy chains and laughs
Got to keep the loonies on the path
It was the same old b*llsh*t as last year and the year before that and the year before that and all the years before that since Harry James Potter had been left on the doorstep of Number 4 Privet Drive in Little Whinging, Surrey.
When he was younger, and before the letters from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy began to come, Harry had been confined to the cupboard under the stairs. When the letters came he was moved to the smallest bedroom of the four bedroom house in which only four occupants, including the under aged wizard lived. Why, you ask, was a young boy forced to live in a cupboard when there were four occupants of the house? The largest bedroom was his Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia Dursley’s bedroom, the second largest was his cousin Dudley’s, the third was the guest room, and the fourth had been Dudley’s second bedroom, where the whale of a child kept his broken toys.
The usual b*llsh*t, though, wasn’t being confined to a cupboard for ten long years of his life, but the slavery, child abuse, and sometimes rape, of the young boy.
Sitting in the park, he knew what was going on, he had figured out at the end of his fifth year. After watching Sirius Black, his godfather and first prisoner to ever escape from the wizarding prison Azkaban, fall through the veil he had snapped. He had realized, in those days following the admittance of Cornelius Fudge to the rest of the wizarding world that Lord Voldemort was indeed back, that he had been manipulated.
The Dursley, who probably had no guilt for what they did, had been told not to show him any love, any caring, any sweetness. It wasn’t out of his own safety that he was forced to remain at Privet drive every summer, it was because Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore needed him to feel this way so that when he got to school or was taken back to the Burrow, or where ever the Order of the Phoenix was, he’d be elated and not even realize that it wasn’t any better.
The lunatic is in the hall
The lunatics are in my hall
The paper holds their folded faces to the floor
And every day the paper boy brings more
Harry had long since moved from the park to his bedroom at Number 4, skipping dinner as he often did. Lying on his bed he noticed the Daily Prophet lying open on the floor. Their apologizing hadn’t lasted very long and they were back to libeling him.
What did he ever do bad to them! All he ever did was save them. He reflected a curse that killed everyone, including his parents, before him and didn’t die; did he want to be famous for living when his parents were dead? No. He suffered for years, under the orders of Dumbledore, no doubt, at the Dursley’s; was it wrong to ask for a little sympathy? No! He came back to Hogwarts and faced Professor Quirrell, who was being possessed by Lord Voldemort, over the stupid Philosphere’s Stone or Sorcerer’s Stone or whatever that dumb stone was called; did he want the whole blasted school to know? NO. He faced Tom Marvolo Riddle, aka Lord Voldemort, in the Chamber of Secrets; was he supposed to let the younger sister of his “best friend” die? NO! Than in his third year he faced the man who had betrayed his parents, Peter Pettigrew, the man who had been accused of betraying them, Sirius Black, a warewolf, Remus Lupin, and hundreds of dementors, as well as travel in time to save a hippogriff and his godfather, Sirius; was he not supposed to feel disheartened when he finally thought his life was going to change for the better only to have it come crashing down? NO! Than he witnessed the revival of Lord Voldemort and the death of Cedric Diggory, the Hufflepuff Seeker; was he not supposed to be angry when no one felt he had a right to know everything that the Order knew, because if it wasn’t for him they wouldn’t even have known Voldemort was back? NO! Was he not supposed to feel betrayed when the Daily Prophet wrote lies about him?
Anger flared in the teen as he glared at the newspaper that promptly burst into flames.
And if the dam breaks open many years too soon
And if there is no room upon the hill
And if your head explodes with dark forebodings too
I'll see you on the dark side of the moon
Harry stood and put his things in his trunks, sure he was being spontaneous, but he was fed up with it. He knew the Ministry of Magic would want to expel him and snap his wand for using magic outside of school, even if it was accidental. He wasn’t going to go down without a fight.
Taking out his wand he quickly placed a feather-light charm as well as a shrinking charm on his trunk after grabbing his green dress robes, Firebolt, and invisibility cloak, just as the first owl flew through the open window.
He glanced at the message and over to Hedwig, “Come find me tomorrow, friend, until then, lay low.” He opened her cage and she hooted before flying out the open window as another owl flew in, he used a Scouring charm on the cage before shrinking it and pocking it along with his trunk.
He changed into his robes and firmly encircled himself in his invisibility cloak, making sure that his broomstick was hidden before flying out of the open window, just as another owl flew in.
The lunatic is in my head
The lunatic is in my head
You raise the blade, you make the change
You re-arrange me 'till I'm sane
Harry sat in his room in a muggle hotel. It had been a week since his escape and flight from Privet Drive and Hedwig had turned up. He wasn’t stupid enough to go to Diagon Alley, while being a wanted man, so he choose a different method. He sent Hedwig with a letter that got money out of his account and exchanged for muggle cash.
He was staying in a pretty nice hotel and had had a major change in appearance. He had gotten laser corrective surgery, so he could ditch the glasses, plastic surgery to remove the evidence of the scar, and had gotten his hair done. He had also got a major change of wardrobe, a few piercings, and tattoos as well as a job. He was now a bartender at a night club in London, thanks to an ageing potion. He blended right in.
However, those things were the farthest things from his mind. Voldemort was on his mind, or in it, actually. He was playing Harry like a piano, and Harry didn’t like that. He knew just which keys to hit and which to avoid, but he had played the song way too long, and Harry had changed the melody.
He looked at the razor blade on the bed in front of him, what he wouldn’t do to end it all, but he couldn’t. He had revenge to take. He picked up the blade and made a few slashes across his wrists and forearms slicing only deep enough to leave a scar and bleed, but not deep enough to be fatal.
You lock the door
And throw away the key
There's someone in my head but it's not me.
Harry had quickly became addicted to cutting, the slashes distracted him from his thoughts, or Voldemort’s thoughts and were keeping him sane, sometimes he’d lock himself in the bathroom and just cut, other times he’d sit on his bed and get drunk. It was rather fun.
He already knew what was happening to him, but he didn’t have the will power to resist. He was taking the darkest path imaginable. He was on the run from the Ministry, Public Enemy Number 1 (even Voldemort wasn’t as wanted as him), he was expelled from Hogwarts (though he was continuing his studies and doing ‘extra curricular’ studies as well), and every Death Eater in the world was after him, he was truely alone.
And if the cloud bursts, thunder in your ear
You shout and no one seems to hear
And if the band you're in starts playing different tunes
I'll see you on the dark side of the moon
It was September the third when he heard from Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger. He had been hoping that they understood, but they didn’t:
He had toned it out after that. He knew that they didn’t care about him, no one seemed to. He was only their weapon. There precious protection against the evil Lord Voldemort. They didn’t care about him if he wasn’t going to be the ‘Golden Boy.’
"I can't think of anything to say except...
I think it's marvellous! HaHaHa!"
It was only a little after that that he received a letter from Tom. An offer to join him and learn everything that he could possibly wish to know. And for the first time ever in the history of Hogwarts a dark wizard began to rise out of Gryffindor house and into a new age.
______________________________________________
End note: Remember, please review, flame, or worship me all you want. Any form of reader response is greatly appreciated.
RATING: PG-13
Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter or the song “Brain Damage” by Pink Floyd would I write the word disclaimer and be American?
Author’s Note: I hope this turns out better than my other stories are. I’m in a major writer’s block and hope this breaks me of it.
Please review.
Warnings: Insane!Harry, Super!Harry, Evil!Harry, Dark!Harry, Gothic!Harry, Independent!Harry, gruesome deaths, torture, rape, cursing (both magic and language), SPOILERS (first five books), AU, child abuse, slavery, etc.
Lyrics
Dark Side of the Moon
Chapter 1: Brain Damage
Chapter 1: Brain Damage
The lunatic is on the grass
The lunatic is on the grass
Remembering games and daisy chains and laughs
Got to keep the loonies on the path
It was the same old b*llsh*t as last year and the year before that and the year before that and all the years before that since Harry James Potter had been left on the doorstep of Number 4 Privet Drive in Little Whinging, Surrey.
When he was younger, and before the letters from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy began to come, Harry had been confined to the cupboard under the stairs. When the letters came he was moved to the smallest bedroom of the four bedroom house in which only four occupants, including the under aged wizard lived. Why, you ask, was a young boy forced to live in a cupboard when there were four occupants of the house? The largest bedroom was his Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia Dursley’s bedroom, the second largest was his cousin Dudley’s, the third was the guest room, and the fourth had been Dudley’s second bedroom, where the whale of a child kept his broken toys.
The usual b*llsh*t, though, wasn’t being confined to a cupboard for ten long years of his life, but the slavery, child abuse, and sometimes rape, of the young boy.
Sitting in the park, he knew what was going on, he had figured out at the end of his fifth year. After watching Sirius Black, his godfather and first prisoner to ever escape from the wizarding prison Azkaban, fall through the veil he had snapped. He had realized, in those days following the admittance of Cornelius Fudge to the rest of the wizarding world that Lord Voldemort was indeed back, that he had been manipulated.
The Dursley, who probably had no guilt for what they did, had been told not to show him any love, any caring, any sweetness. It wasn’t out of his own safety that he was forced to remain at Privet drive every summer, it was because Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore needed him to feel this way so that when he got to school or was taken back to the Burrow, or where ever the Order of the Phoenix was, he’d be elated and not even realize that it wasn’t any better.
The lunatic is in the hall
The lunatics are in my hall
The paper holds their folded faces to the floor
And every day the paper boy brings more
Harry had long since moved from the park to his bedroom at Number 4, skipping dinner as he often did. Lying on his bed he noticed the Daily Prophet lying open on the floor. Their apologizing hadn’t lasted very long and they were back to libeling him.
What did he ever do bad to them! All he ever did was save them. He reflected a curse that killed everyone, including his parents, before him and didn’t die; did he want to be famous for living when his parents were dead? No. He suffered for years, under the orders of Dumbledore, no doubt, at the Dursley’s; was it wrong to ask for a little sympathy? No! He came back to Hogwarts and faced Professor Quirrell, who was being possessed by Lord Voldemort, over the stupid Philosphere’s Stone or Sorcerer’s Stone or whatever that dumb stone was called; did he want the whole blasted school to know? NO. He faced Tom Marvolo Riddle, aka Lord Voldemort, in the Chamber of Secrets; was he supposed to let the younger sister of his “best friend” die? NO! Than in his third year he faced the man who had betrayed his parents, Peter Pettigrew, the man who had been accused of betraying them, Sirius Black, a warewolf, Remus Lupin, and hundreds of dementors, as well as travel in time to save a hippogriff and his godfather, Sirius; was he not supposed to feel disheartened when he finally thought his life was going to change for the better only to have it come crashing down? NO! Than he witnessed the revival of Lord Voldemort and the death of Cedric Diggory, the Hufflepuff Seeker; was he not supposed to be angry when no one felt he had a right to know everything that the Order knew, because if it wasn’t for him they wouldn’t even have known Voldemort was back? NO! Was he not supposed to feel betrayed when the Daily Prophet wrote lies about him?
Anger flared in the teen as he glared at the newspaper that promptly burst into flames.
And if the dam breaks open many years too soon
And if there is no room upon the hill
And if your head explodes with dark forebodings too
I'll see you on the dark side of the moon
Harry stood and put his things in his trunks, sure he was being spontaneous, but he was fed up with it. He knew the Ministry of Magic would want to expel him and snap his wand for using magic outside of school, even if it was accidental. He wasn’t going to go down without a fight.
Taking out his wand he quickly placed a feather-light charm as well as a shrinking charm on his trunk after grabbing his green dress robes, Firebolt, and invisibility cloak, just as the first owl flew through the open window.
He glanced at the message and over to Hedwig, “Come find me tomorrow, friend, until then, lay low.” He opened her cage and she hooted before flying out the open window as another owl flew in, he used a Scouring charm on the cage before shrinking it and pocking it along with his trunk.
He changed into his robes and firmly encircled himself in his invisibility cloak, making sure that his broomstick was hidden before flying out of the open window, just as another owl flew in.
The lunatic is in my head
The lunatic is in my head
You raise the blade, you make the change
You re-arrange me 'till I'm sane
Harry sat in his room in a muggle hotel. It had been a week since his escape and flight from Privet Drive and Hedwig had turned up. He wasn’t stupid enough to go to Diagon Alley, while being a wanted man, so he choose a different method. He sent Hedwig with a letter that got money out of his account and exchanged for muggle cash.
He was staying in a pretty nice hotel and had had a major change in appearance. He had gotten laser corrective surgery, so he could ditch the glasses, plastic surgery to remove the evidence of the scar, and had gotten his hair done. He had also got a major change of wardrobe, a few piercings, and tattoos as well as a job. He was now a bartender at a night club in London, thanks to an ageing potion. He blended right in.
However, those things were the farthest things from his mind. Voldemort was on his mind, or in it, actually. He was playing Harry like a piano, and Harry didn’t like that. He knew just which keys to hit and which to avoid, but he had played the song way too long, and Harry had changed the melody.
He looked at the razor blade on the bed in front of him, what he wouldn’t do to end it all, but he couldn’t. He had revenge to take. He picked up the blade and made a few slashes across his wrists and forearms slicing only deep enough to leave a scar and bleed, but not deep enough to be fatal.
You lock the door
And throw away the key
There's someone in my head but it's not me.
Harry had quickly became addicted to cutting, the slashes distracted him from his thoughts, or Voldemort’s thoughts and were keeping him sane, sometimes he’d lock himself in the bathroom and just cut, other times he’d sit on his bed and get drunk. It was rather fun.
He already knew what was happening to him, but he didn’t have the will power to resist. He was taking the darkest path imaginable. He was on the run from the Ministry, Public Enemy Number 1 (even Voldemort wasn’t as wanted as him), he was expelled from Hogwarts (though he was continuing his studies and doing ‘extra curricular’ studies as well), and every Death Eater in the world was after him, he was truely alone.
And if the cloud bursts, thunder in your ear
You shout and no one seems to hear
And if the band you're in starts playing different tunes
I'll see you on the dark side of the moon
It was September the third when he heard from Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger. He had been hoping that they understood, but they didn’t:
Dear Harry
Where are you? Everyone’s looking for you. You’re in big trouble. Why did you use an incendiary charm
at your house. You burned it down, and killed your
relatives...
Where are you? Everyone’s looking for you. You’re in big trouble. Why did you use an incendiary charm
at your house. You burned it down, and killed your
relatives...
He had toned it out after that. He knew that they didn’t care about him, no one seemed to. He was only their weapon. There precious protection against the evil Lord Voldemort. They didn’t care about him if he wasn’t going to be the ‘Golden Boy.’
"I can't think of anything to say except...
I think it's marvellous! HaHaHa!"
It was only a little after that that he received a letter from Tom. An offer to join him and learn everything that he could possibly wish to know. And for the first time ever in the history of Hogwarts a dark wizard began to rise out of Gryffindor house and into a new age.
______________________________________________
End note: Remember, please review, flame, or worship me all you want. Any form of reader response is greatly appreciated.
