Harry Potter has been trained by a certain Dark wizard since he turned five. What happens when now fifteen years old Harry arrives his first time to Hogwarts to get his OWLs?
By: Random Shinobi
Summary: Harry Potter has been trained by a certain Dark wizard since he turned five. What happens when now fifteen years old Harry arrives his first time to Hogwarts to get his OLWs?
Genre: Action. (Though, there are also small amounts of drama, romance, angst and humour.)
Rating: R (That's it. Intended for mature audience only.)
Features: Intelligent!Voldemort, Competent!Dumbledore, Slytherish!Harry and Capable!Death Eaters.
And most importantly, there is no superpowers (or equivalents). Harry isn't the Heir of Gryffindor, Slytherin, Merlin and God knows who. He isn't a multiple magical Animagus, nor is he the strongest wizard ever. Almost miraculously he isn't almost-worshipped by goblins, nor does his dark mysteriousness have all females swooning. And by some terrible misfortune he isn't the richest wizard in the world and no, he doesn't have dozen-or-so hereditary votes in the Wizarding government.
Author's Notes: In the later chapters there will be lots of graphic violence, tiniest bit of smut and few character deaths. Be warned but rest assuredly, there will be a (semi) happy ending. This a story for those who like magic mixed with martial arts and machine guns. The beginning is bit OC-heavy, but it will pass. Relatively fast paced.
Disclaimer: If you recognize it, then it might well belong to J.K.R or to some of her affiliates. Or to some random people out there. I only claim my OC:s and plot.
It was ironic. Really.
My father used to say that everything is funny as long as it is happening to someone else. Even though I don't agree with my father on many points, I find truth in that sentence.
Voldemort had fallen... against a baby. It was completely ridiculous. How can a powerful wizard, who had killed so many strong witches and wizards fall prey to a mere boy child. It was insanity.
But it had happened and Voldemort's reign of terror had finally ended.
And funnily enough it isn't good news. Not at all. Not to me at least.
Soon his stupid followers, those so-called Death Eaters will be here. They will come and try to force me to resurrect their foolish master. They must know that he cannot truly be killed as long as his Horcrux remains intact. It's only matter of binding his shattered soul to a new container. Or maybe they don't know, maybe he hasn't told them. That would be so like him.
He was always so secretive. Always so damn manipulative. No wonder he managed to convince me to work with him. I should have known better. He was always far too interested in Dark Arts for his own good. I should have known how he would utilise our research. He was just like that Grindelwald fellow. Just like him. And I had trusted both.
Maybe I should do something. He is very weak now. I might be able to find and destroy him in more permanent basis. But to do so I would have to leave my self-imposed exile and return into the wizarding world. Leave my studying and...
Series of cracking sounds echoed in the corridor behind him. Sounds of Apparation.
It seems that he had indeed told them. One more thing I was wrong about... he thought as he shook his head gently.
"Kheiron Lestrange," somebody said from behind him. A cold arrogant female voice... Does she really think that she can just walk here and express demands? And when I say no, will they try to force me? And how did they get past my wards anyway?
Kheiron turned to face the unwelcome visitors. "My dear Bellatrix, it's good to see you," he lied quietly, trying to contain his anger. I wonder what my cousin thought when his wife became Voldemort's whore.
"Cut the pleasantries, Kheiron. You know very well why we are here," Bellatrix cut in. "You should be grateful that we allow you a change to redeem yourself in the eyes of the Dark Lord."
Kheiron nearly laughed at that. Redeem myself in the eyes of Voldemort? How stupid can people get? Foolish Death Eaters. They seem to have a metaphorical habit of juggling metal objects while standing up knee deep in figurative water, dark clouds rumbling above their head. They just don't know when to stop.
"I am not going to help you," he snarled.
"Why?" Bellatrix asked.
"Simply because Voldemort is nothing but a mass murdering criminal who wants to gain absolute power. I don't want to associate myself with him any more than it's absolutely necessary."
Bellatrix snickered. "It's not like you haven't killed someone yourself, Kheiron. Nor are you the most law abiding wizard either."
"You should take this as an opportunity to take power," other Death Eater reasoned. "Haven't you been trying to amass as much magical power as possible for your whole life? Besides, you know that purebloods like us should be in charge!"
"Yes," a young looking Death Eater agreed. "There are no good and evil. Only people who are afraid to take power, and those who aren't."
"You just don't get it, do you?" Kheiron snarled. "Rather than to come up with thin excuses for my deeds, immersing myself in the justification of why this or that was done, I simply do what I want. It is the magical power that allows me to live this way, and it is for that reason why I seek more power."
Kheiron looked directly into the young man's eyes. "I don't need the power you master offers, for its price is too high. I am not willing to sacrifice my freedom so lightly. Besides, I really don't like the idea of dictatorship. Nor am I bending on genocide of mudbloods.
He turned his gaze back at Bellatrix. "Go away. You have nothing to give me, not that I would help you anyway."
"Then we have to force you," the young man beside Bellatrix said eagerly. "The Dark Lord will surely greatly reward our efforts."
Kheiron laughed. "Good judgment comes from experience. A lot of experience comes as the result of bad judgment. And trust me, you don't want to experience this." His bravado was mostly faked. As a general principle, fighting alone against four Dark sorcerers ranks very high in the list of possible stupidities. He was a Ravenclaw, and thus he was supposed to act rationally, right? Perhaps I should...
Unfortunately the chance to resolve things peacefully was taken out of his hands as the young man, who happened to be named Bartemius Crouch Jr. hadn't taken his words well. "Crucio," he shrieked, unleashing the first spell and the first Unforgivable of the battle. More would surely follow.
With lightning fast flick of Kheiron's wand the curse rebounded, and hit squarely into it's caster's chest. The young Death Eater fell on the ground with agonized yell. He lay on the floor panting heavily, small sobs emanating from his lips as his whole body trembled.
Kheiron decided not to wait for their next attack. Attack is usually the best defence, and even when it's not, it's still good past time. He made horizontal sweep with his wand and hissed an incantation: "Cinisafunis."
A storm of glowing red ribbons erupted from the tip of his wand in wide arc. Bellatrix quickly ducked down to avoid the spell. Her two standing companions weren't so bright or experienced in duelling. They used common shield spells and Kheiron's spell simply entangled them and their shields. They would be all right as long as their shields would hold, but after that...
Kheiron cast his second spell in rapid succession. "Filiegres." It was complex spell to temporary seal area from Apparation. I can hardly let them escape, can I?
Bellatrix had, unfortunately for Kheiron, had enough time to cast a strong bludgeoning charm towards him. Kheiron still had his shields up from first attack, but the bludgeoning curse managed to penetrate his already greatly weakened shield, impacting heavily on his chest. The force behind the spell was such that his enchanted robes couldn't absorb all of it. Air was blasted out of his lungs and he cursed inwardly. Damn. She could have killed me. Luckily they want me alive... Thank God that I haven't such restraints.
As the curse blasted Kheiron a few metres backwards, Bellatrix yelled, "Imperio!" Kheiron once again rebounded the curse with flick of his wand.
Bellatrix lost a few precious seconds as she swayed to her left side to avoid the rebounding curse. Kheiron used this time to launch a Killing Curse towards her.
As Bellatrix once again ducked down in fluid motion, the curse hit the unfortunate Death Eater behind her. Avada Kedavra easily shattered the Death Eater's shield and hit her on her elbow. With soft growl she fell to the ground, obviously dead. Kheiron grinned. One down, three to go...
Now the only Dead Eater left who was battling Cinisafunis charm was starting to look very nervous. He knew that he was like sitting duck to the enemy.
Barty however had had enough time to recover from the Cruciatus curse to be dangerous. He and Bellatrix started to launch barrage after barrage of curses towards Kheiron. He was dodging, rebounding and blocking curses to the best of his ability. It soon started to seem that it wouldn't be enough.
Kheiron cursed. Damn it. Damn it! I am no fighter, even if I know far more magic than those impudent children combined. But that does little good with little actual battle experience. Especially against multiple opponents. Except... Yes. If those Death Eaters like Black magic, I shall show them Black magic.
"Accio Corpse!" Kheiron yelled. The dead Death Eater flew front of him. The dead body served as make shift shield, blocking curses, giving Kheiron enough time to perform one of the most infamous spells in existence: "Alacritasi Corpus."
Black and green sphere left his wand and hit the corpse. The corpse started to emit nearly invisible waves of dark, transparent magic, like some unholy heartbeats. As suddenly as the waves had started, they stopped. The dead Death Eater opened its eyes, and let out guttural growl. He had become one of the undead, an Inferius.
With a simple mental command from Kheiron the Inferius turned towards remaining Death Eaters. Kheiron smiled wickedly. Using the darkest of arts always gave euphoric feeling. This was one of reasons why so many people lost themselves to them. Dark Arts were drug of the wizarding world, except that you don't kill yourself with them, you kill others...
As Barty and Bellatrix shot barrage of fire spells towards incoming Inferius, Kheiron launched a silent Killing Curse, taking panicking Bellatrix unaware. Two down, two to go...
Barty Crouch let out a relieved sigh as the Inferius crumbled down. His moment of triumph didn't last long though, as Kheiron hit him with three Sectumsempras in rapid succession. His spells cut through flesh and bone, spraying blood everywhere. Tiny drops of the crimson liquid hit the floor, forming myriad patterns, and for a second it sounded like it was raining.
The Death Eater was dead before he hit the floor. Kheiron smirked. Three down, one to go...
Kheiron neared the last Death Eater. He was still struggling against Cinisafunis charm. What a weakling... And they say that the purebloods are the strongest of all.
"Please. Please, don't kill me!"
Kheiron watched the crying man with obvious disgust. "I am not going to kill you... Actually I am going to lift that charm off," he said pleasantly, even though he felt urge to sneer.
"Oh... Thank you. Thank you."
Kheiron lifted his wand and whispered softly, "Finite Incantatem." The dispelling charm destroyed Death Eater's shield charm. Allowing the Cinisafunis charm to come into contact with his flesh. Death Eater started to scream horribly as the magical web seared its way through his flesh, igniting it.
"Maybe I should have specified the charm which I promised to lift..." Kheiron wondered aloud as he watched the last remaining Death Eater to burn alive. Four down, zero to go...
I killed once again. How long it is from the last time. About twenty years, I guess. Killing is quite pointless, really. Violence never changes people's opinions. It merely reduces the number of people with different opinions...
...But then, that happens to be the most wanted solution in many cases. Ah, well... maybe it isn't that pointless after all.
Now when the battle was over Kheiron watched his surroundings and realised that his house was happily burning from all those fire spells. As Kheiron lifted his wand to quench the flames, he realised he still had openings in his extensive magical knowledge. He didn't know how to put off fires in grand scale. Damn...
It was starting to get somewhat hard to breath. That cannot be good sign, now can it? Smoky air was also starting to get unconformable hot, despite build-in cooling charms on his robes. It just gets better and better. Floor under him was burning. Fires were flickering ends of his robes. Damn it! Suddenly he realised that his wand had caught fire. It seemed that the protection his charmed robes offered didn't extend to his wand. That's it!
Suddenly he remembered one of the random proverbs his father had had a habit to say. 'You know, Kheiron, men and women are a lot alike in certain situations. Like when they're both on fire.'
Kheiron grimaced as he activated his emergency port-key in his pocket and vanished.
He reappeared in hills near his home, wildly waving his wand arm to quench the flames. After the flames had quenched he muttered, "Renova."
With bright flash of magic all burn marks suddenly vanished from his wand.
Well... It seems that I am some-what forced to take actions. Yes... I will accept my responsibility and bring Tom 'I-suck-at-anagrams' Riddle's final downfall... I promise.
Suddenly a house-elf appeared with soft 'pop'. "Master, our house is burning."
Kheiron blinked. He looked sideways to the small elf wearing black robes. When he had found that freed elf crying alone in an abandoned house a decade ago, he had decided to take him, as he would probably be fascinating subject to study, not to mention that a house-elf would be very useful.
How wrong had he been.
He softly shook his head and answered gravely, "That's sort of obvious."
"Well, yes. But shouldn't we do something about it?" the elf inquired, raising his eyebrows.
"You are the who is supposed to do household things, and burning house surely is a household thing."
"What! It's not my fault! You send me to gather information, didn't you? You are not thinking that I could do something to that inferno!"
"It was a joke," he sighed. "It was supposed to lighten the mood." Why I had to have the only house elf with a backbone.
Kheiron glared the elf. "Iason, I really hope that your mission was success, because I am not in a good mood."
"Are you threatening me?" Iason, the house-elf asked.
"Yes I am, you have problems with it?"
Iason grinned. "No, sir. I am very used to it. I just wanted your confirmation. And yes, my mission was a success, like there was any doubt of it. They are going to leave him to his muggle relatives."
"What! Why would they want to do that? Abandoning the Voldemort's killer to muggles' care..." Kheiron mused. "Remaining Death Eaters would kill him in a blink of eye!" Unless there is more than meets the eye. What are you planning Dumbledore?
"Iason doesn't know, master Lestrange."
Kheiron turned towards his house-elf and watched him with narrowed eyes. "Why are suddenly talking like an ordinary house-elf?"
"I felt like it," the elf answered, apparently unfazed by Kheiron's death glare.
"I hope you feel that you should go and find out why they are going to leave him to his muggle relatives."
"Understood, sir," the elf said quickly with small grin and disappeared with soft 'pop'.
As Kheiron watched his home burn, over thousand miles western small baby boy was placed on the steps of Privet Drive Four in Little Whinging.
Everywhere magical people were lifting goblets for the Boy Who Lived and for the Voldemort's defeat, but Kheiron didn't feel like celebrating. He knew that the war hadn't really ended, it had just begun.