A/N: Hello this is my 1st "proper" fanfic that I will take time to write e.t.c.

It is an Evil! Harry fic so if you don't like that don't read it

Takes place at the end of OOTP after Harry has met with Dumbledore after Sirius's demise and has been told of the prophecy.

Edited slightly: Including a small part of the original prophecy and expanded on Harrys thoughts and the events leading up to Dumbledores death.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything that is not mine.

Prologue:

Nearly two thousand years ago a prophecy was made. This prophecy foretold the coming of the savoir. The savoir was to rid the universe of darkness once and for all. But in the darkness of night, the savoir would fall. And with him would fall the moon and stars, and as the black sun rises. The light would be extinguished forever.

Harry James Potter lay awake pondering the events leading up to this point in his life. He refused to cry. To cry was to show you had a weakness.

'Your ability to show emotion is what makes you human' the manipulative old codger had said.

'Bullshit!' Harry thought.

He had lost the last remaining link to his parents, Lupin was close to him but he never was what he thought to be his father figure and Dumbledore…

Anger, hate, betrayal. These were the only emotions he connected with that mans name. He no longer respected him. To him, Albus Dumbledore was a manipulative bastard.

Suddenly the hatred he felt for Albus Dumbledore was magnified ten-fold. He felt a new sense of awareness, a sense of power. And above all that a strong yearning to prove himself.

Dark whispers echoed through his mind. Goading him on. Telling him to deal vengeance against those who had wronged him. And in a moment of hate filled concentration, he knew what he had to do.

Harry Potter rose from his bed, a fierce and determined look on his face. He reached out and slipped on his robes and set of out of the dormitory.

He crossed the common room and passed the fat lady's portrait. Inside her mahogany frame the painted and animated figure cringed back in terror as she felt the aura of darkness and hate that radiated off him in waves.

He swept down the stairs leading to the entrance hall and paused outside the stone gargoyle standing guard at the entrance to the headmaster's office.

"Open" he said in a slow, menacing voice, unknowingly letting a hint of the Dark Lords gift show in the form of a parseltounge hiss. Surprisingly the gargoyle leapt aside granting him entrance into the old fools office.

Albus Dumbledore looked up to find a pair of shocking emerald eyes looking down at him from where he sat at his desk in his office.

He needn't guess who these eyes belonged to as only one person still remained alive who had that colour of eyes.

'Lily's eyes' he thought

"Mr potter please take a seat. Lemon drop?" he asked faking a smile

Harry remained stock-still. His breath came in short harsh gasps as he stared down at those Merlin-damned pair of shining blue orbs; The owner of which had manipulated him. The bastard who had left him with lose god-damned Dursleys and their fat offspring. The bastards who had manipulated him into serving the "greater good", the personal vendetta of one Albus Dumbledore: A man who claimed to seek peace and freedom from the darkness, though even in times of supposed peace he forged a weapon to use to start another one, a weapon that he would merely discard when it's usefulness was over. That weapon would not be Harry James Potter.

"You know why I am here" Harry finally said after a few moments of silence

Dumbledore's face fell. No he didn't know EXACTLY why Harry was here at this hour. He had thought Harry would come to him seeking, no demanding answers to any questions he had and asking Dumbledore for advice like the weak easily manipulated weapon he is but now he knew different for a wizard with power as great as he could see the billowing black cloud that followed the boy.

Harry slowly reached out his hand and in a flash Dumbledore was pinned to his chair. He struggled as he saw Harry open one of the many glass cabinets around his office, and pulling out the sword of Gryfindor. The same sword he had pulled out from the sorting hat a few years earlier.

Harry turned around sword in hand.

"You knew, you knew old man. You knew the prophecy you knew only I could defeat riddle, you used me Dumbledore, you used me. Don't look surprised old man you know of what I speak. But maybe I do not want that. Maybe I do not want to be your submissive snivelling weapon, your savoir. Maybe I don't want to be thrusted into a role, a role I will be relieved of when you have had your fill of me and that will only end with my destruction!"

He leaned in closer to Dumbledore until their faces nearly touched

"I quit" he whispered softly and raised his sword

Albus Wulfric Dumbledore, the one who had slain the dark lord Grindlewald and his squib puppet Hitler could only watch as the sword blade arced over his head slamming the crown of his balding head with a crash, severing his vital connections in his brain and throwing his vernable and crippled body to the floor with a sickening crunch. Bones shattered at the impact and a sharp segment splintered off his ribs, entering his lungs and shredding his windpipe. Albus tried to scream in agony but found he could no longer breath. The air rushed from his body and his heart began to slow, no magic could save him now and he knew it. With that thought his brain finally gave way, plunging his senses into the abyss until only one thought lingered for a few seconds before dissipating into the darkness: We were wrong. He is the child of the second prophecy. Merlin save us. Forgive me Uldor. Forgive me James. Forgive me…

"Sweet dreams Albus," whispered Harry as he closed the door behind him leaving a shocked and dying Albus Dumbledore in his wake.

The office was silent for a few seconds until one final gasping noise was heard. Albus Dumbledore lay dead, a bloodied sword lying in front of the fireplace. When an unfortunate Mungdungas Fletcher found the body in the small hours of the day, he to nearly collapsed before running at full speed to the teachers quarters.

The next day saw Harry getting up out of bed getting dressed and washed and leaving for breakfast. As it was the last day of school the house elves had packed his trunk already leaving him free to wander the corridors at his own pace. His now demented mind conjuring up thoughts and ideas on what to do next. He had no true idea where some of these were coming from as they seemed to contain the knowledge of locations and incantations beyond his sparse knowledge. Many of them he made a note of to visit or attempt at a later stage, but for now, he had much more important things to attend to.

The great hall was mainly empty as it was currently very early in the morning so only a handful of people from various houses were currently residing at their house tables.

Harry buttered himself some toast and poured himself a glass of pumpkin juice.

He wished they served a wider range of drinks at Hogwarts. Firewhisky for example

He took a sip and nearly choked.

'Bloody hell!' he thought ' Dumb-as-fuck must have finally got us some decent beverages, oh wait he can't as he's dead.'

Harry grinned a malicious grin at this. Anyone passing by might have thought he had gone insane and would have immediately summoned healers from St Mungos and conjured a straight jacket.

Soon the tables filled up and the loud noise of over a hundred conversations reached his ears.

He noticed that all the teachers were absent.

'A good sign' he thought as it shows that someone must have found the old coots body.

As if on cue the solemn faced teachers entered the room.

Everyone in the hall went silent as they saw the look on each and every staff members face.

Professor McGonagal stood up at the front of the hall. Her lips set in a thin line. The assembled students stared up at her in silence, each of them wondering why their headmaster was not making the announcement or in fact: Not even present to oversee breakfast as usual.

The rumours said that Dumbledore and Harry had been off fighting the Dark Lord, (Which was pretty true. If you can call cowering behind an animated fountain fighting) and the elder of the two had been severely injured in the process. (Though many students had caught glimpses of him from time to time, none spoke up against the rumours, deciding to blend in with serene anonymity)

Mc Gonnagal stared down at her charges from the slightly elevated platform of the teachers table. Words failed her as her mind ran riot with thoughts of their now deceased leader. How could she break it to them? How could she tell them that their leader was gone? She steadied herself. It would not do good to incite a panic. She raised her head and stared at the space across the hall where the portraits of former headmasters hung. On the far left however, their hung merely a still canvas. For no soul existed to animate the figure within. On a small golden plaque below the frame. The words Albus Dumbledore: Headmaster 1973-1996 glimmered in the flickering candle light, unnoticed by all but herself.

Clearing her throat, she spoke in a voice little louder than a whisper.

"Students. Last night someone committed a sin so foul and dreadful that even Merlin the Great could not forgive. Last night someone murdered Albus Dumbledore in his own office, and fled the scene of the crime like a coward."

Everyone sat stunned, mouths in a traditional "fly trapping" position. Harry barely managed to keep his face straight. 'If this is how they react when the "great" Albus Dumbledore dies imagine what they will think when they find out that it was ME who killed him. The fucking poster boy of the light side. The fucking boy-who-lived-to-kill-Dumbledore'

Harry's mood was significantly different than last year. Last year he was dreading going home but this year he was almost craving it. This year was the last time he would be returning to the Dursley household.

This year was the time he would make them pay.

But oh no not just them soon the whole world will reap what they have sown.

This year would be the turning point in history, both wizard and muggle.

This year would be the starting point of a chain of events that would lead up to the damnation of this world.

This year, Harry potter would have his revenge.