Title: From Darkness Emerges

Author: Herald-MageAnduli

Genre: Drama, Suspense

Main Characters: Harry Potter, Severus Snape, Lucius Malfoy, Draco Malfoy

Secondary: Voldemort, Dumbledore, Ron, Hermione, Slytherins, Death Eaters Bellatrix, Sirius, Remus, Fenrir, others!

Summary: AU Dark!Powerful!Harry. At the end of 6th year, Harry comes into his inheritance. The wizarding world heads into war as he begins 7th year & nobody expects him to be Dark. Pairings undecided, most likely LuciusxHarry OOC Creature!Harry 00/00

Warnings: M/M relationships, AU from OOTP onward. Starts at DH. Not Canon. Some major OOCness from Harry. Ron, Hermione and Dumbledore bashing. Rated T for violence, language and gay relationships.

For years the Daily Prophet had written the articles warning the magical world. Tirelessly they had printed the facts that everyone refused to see. They warned, truthfully, that the greatest of us all was going to fall. Little did the light-aligned wizards and witches of Britain know how much of those articles were based in reality. When the truth hit and the dust cleared, little would be left of the magical world as they knew it. –Chapter 1, From Darkness Emerges

In the Forest of Dean was a clearing. Not many knew of it, the greatest of protections known to magic hid it from view. In the clearing was a manor. The manor was owned by a 17-year-old student of Hogwarts School. The manor, called simply House of Ancients, was older than the nearby school, having been built by one of its founders.

It was a masonry masterpiece, built of gray-streaked black marble. Four stories high with an in-ground cellar, there were over 150 rooms. Generation upon generation of house elves worked tirelessly to keep it dust-free and sparkling. They served their young Master with pride, honored that one of their ancient Master's blood was still alive. There was no moat or outer defense like Muggles would have kept, the wards around the House of Ancients had been in place for over 500 years. The only one who could bring them down was the current Master.

The House of Ancients was hosting the forces of the Dark and their Lord. It welcomed them with open arms, Dark Magic had been used in its construction and it wasn't about to turn down kindred spirits. The Dark Lord himself had been delighted to find portraits of his distant ancestor and spoke for hours on end about his goals. For the forces called the Death Eaters the House of Ancients was luxury beyond even what the purebloods could imagine.

A figure was walking through the dark woods toward the manor. He was slight of build and walked swiftly, moving with purpose toward the massive front doors built of ebony wood. As he reached the top of the steps they swung open of their own accord as if to welcome home a lost soul. The figure was no more than ten steps inside when a house elf appeared, bowing until its nose brushed the Persian rug.

The figure brushed one hand impatiently, dismissing the creature. The hand that they waved at the elf was slender and pale, with long, delicate fingers. On the second finger was an ornate ring.

Shaped like a serpent, it was coiled around the finger twice. The tail crossed over its body and came to rest a few centimeters from the fangs. The creature itself was made of platinum and goblin-wrought crystal, with silver and ivory scales. The eye was a small, perfect ruby and supported between the fangs and tail was a cabochon-cut stone that was half apple-green jade and half the darkest blue sapphire.

Simple black silk robes flowed around a slender body as the figure walked through a hallway. Underneath his feet ran a mosaic tile floor in tones of blue, green, silver and gold, with gold being predominant. He walked straight to the doors of white marble at the end of the hall, heels clicking on the tiles. Once again the doors opened without any gesture from the figure.

The room he had walked into was done entirely in white. White marble walls and pillars, ivory carpets and chairs made of rare elf-spun cotton and birch wood. The pride of the room was the beautiful creamy carpet with tiny, elegant designs in gold. A very large section of the carpet was now stained in a scarlet spread around the body of a dead Auror.

Sparing the Ministry of Magic official not a single glance the hooded figure said irritably, "I am honored to have you and your followers here Voldemort, what I cannot understand is your lack of being able to follow the simplest of requests."

Glittering red eyes the same shape as a serpent's speared him. The Dark Lord hissed out, "What do you mean by that?"

The other snorted. "It is quite obvious what I mean by this, Tom," he waved a hand to indicate the dead Auror.

"You object to the death of an Auror then?" the Dark Lord sneered.

"No," he replied sharply. "What I object to is your use of this room for these purposes. There is a cellar half-full of cells and torture chambers. The grounds are less than a hundred feet away. Do you know how hard it is to get blood out of a white carpet?"

"The one who cast the Cutting Curse was Avery. If you are displeased, let it be with him," Voldemort replied.

"Summon him," he snapped.

A few moments passed and Avery walked through the doors and bowed to his Lord.

"Avery," the other stated.

"Yes?" Avery asked disdainfully. He didn't understand why his Lord would play these power games with a mere child. This other was beneath his notice.

The other breathed in coolly, attempting not to lose control at the less than respectful tone. "You were here when I stated my rules, correct?"

"Of course."

"One of them was to avoid causing unnecessary bloodshed in these halls, correct?"

"Yes," Avery ground out.

With a small, dangerous smile he gestured to the body of the Auror and said, "Then explain to me why a white Persian carpet has a full bed sized blood stain on it?"

"I used a Cutting Curse. Cutting Curses cause blood to spill, you know," Avery said mockingly.

A black wand with mother-of-pearl inlay was pointed at Avery as the other said, "Crucio."

Avery's shrieks of pain filled the air for almost ten minutes before the other stopped the curse. "I need you to remember two things Avery. The first is to never cast a blood-letting curse outside of the cellars. Second, I suggest you address me with a more respectful tone. Can you do that?"

Avery bent his head and muttered, "Yes."

"Good," the other waited until Avery looked at him. "The next time you fail on either one, you won't be alive to regret it."

Turning dismissively away from the Death Eater the other addressed the Dark Lord again. "Have your people spoken with the Educational Department?"

"Yes. You have been transferred to Slytherin as requested and they have given you permission to Apparate inside grounds. You have also been given unlimited access to the Restricted Section and private quarters in the guest wing on the 3rd floor, with access to the Floo Network."

"I believe we work well together, Tom. By the end of next year at the latest the goals of Salazar Slytherin will have been achieved."

"Indeed. Who would have guessed that hidden inside you would be the soul and blood of the original pureblood and the heart of a Dark wizard?"

"Who would have guessed," the other chuckled. It was not a pleasant sound. Spearing the Dark Lord with a glance he said sharply, "Should I expect any trouble from Severus Snape?"

"No. He believes the Malfoy heir is the only Dark student."

"I had better be off then. I have a train to catch tomorrow morning."

"Pleasant trip," the Dark Lord smirked.

The other rolled his eyes and replied, "It will be exceptionally boring. The Gryffindors called my 'friends' grate on my nerves."

He walked out of the room accompanied by Voldemort's laugh. A house elf appeared and he demanded, "Has my trunk been repainted and packed as ordered?"

"Yes, young Master," the elf bowed.

"Good."

Waving his hand he murmured, "Accio Trunk."

Said article appeared. The figure cast a wandless Shrinking Charm and placed the trunk in his pocket.

He departed with the same swift grace that he'd appeared, walking past the wards of his home before Apparating with a sharp crack. He appeared in front of the pub called the Leaky Cauldron. Waving his hand, he changed his robes to a t-shirt and jeans and Glamoured his appearance before walking inside.

Tom the barkeep smiled at him and said, "A room for the evening, Mr. Potter?"

Harry James Potter, hero of the Light, smiled faintly and said, "That would be wonderful Tom."

*

The next morning Harry woke at precisely 5:45 a.m. and started his stretches. He was naturally athletic and flexible but he insisted on maintaining a physical regime instead of falling back on his inheritance. After he finished he took a cool shower before dressing. A quick flick of his hand gave them the appearance of a pair of blue jeans and a gray sweatshirt.

Picking up the cane from where it rested near his bed he started walking downstairs for breakfast. He really did need it; otherwise he had an obvious and painful limp. At the end of 6th year his right leg had been shattered by a falling piece of stone. It had never healed correctly, despite the treatment of healers from St. Mungo's. He'd borrowed a page from Lucius Malfoy, making the end of the cane hollow to hide his wand. Unlike the pureblood Lord, his was unadorned. Instead the ebony and mother-of-pearl handle created the grip.

As he walked he considered the events that had changed his life. Ironically, this had been the first summer he appreciated being ignored by Dumbledore and the others. Outside of weekly letters from Sirius and the more occasional one from Ron or Hermione he'd had no contact with the Order. So when his skin had started glowing gold on the night of his birthday all he'd had to worry about had been the Dursleys.

The glow had stayed for a few hours and when it disappeared he'd been extremely tired. He'd gone to sleep and after waking had seen his new appearance. Shock and then pleasure had been his first two reactions. Shock because of how very different he looked and pleasure at the fact that he was definitely not hard on the eyes. That morning he'd received a letter, dated for September of 1463.

The letter had detailed his inheritance and told him of his ability to use wandless magic. Wandless magic was undetectable by the Ministry so he was able to Glamour his appearance before going downstairs. A trip to Diagon Alley had followed. He had actually spent the day in Knockturn Alley, but no one knew that. He'd visited a vault in Gringotts before beginning his day and received a few key items, including his wand and the ring on his finger. He still had the holly wand, though it was more a prop for his wandless magic than anything else.

He was not a magical creature, as he first thought, but one of the magical races. There was an important difference. The magical races included the High Elves, vampires and werewolves. The Ministry had misclassified the werewolves on purpose in order to keep them under control. His was the rarest of magical races, one that was never a Light-aligned kind. His race had maintained a careful cover of neutrality for centuries while helping the worthy Dark forward their goal.

On his trip into Knockturn Alley he had met one of his race and learned how to control his new body. It had been thrilling and empowering to realize that never again would he be under Dumbledore's control. With his levels of power he could be the one in control if he wished. A few careful visits with the Dark Lord and key Death Eaters and he'd given his allegiance. The Dark Lord knew he wasn't one of his followers and had not attempted to mark his skin.

His internal musings were interrupted by the sound of Granger and Weasley arguing. This had gotten to be a familiar sound, the pair couldn't agree on anything. More than once Harry had been tempted to cast a Silencing Charm on them both and give them a piece of his mind. He was trying not to give into that urge.

"Harry! You're here!" Hermione squealed.

"Of course I am. Do you think I'd stay at the Dursleys any longer than necessary?"

He sat down, rubbing his bad leg. Even with his special stretches and potions it ached something fierce. He was not looking forward to all the stairs at Hogwarts. He started eating, ignoring the chatter around him and Ginerva's attempts to flirt with him. He was less than interested in someone from a family of blood traitors.

"What's the cane for Harry?" Ron asked as they stood up for the short Portkey to platform 9 ¾.

"In case you don't remember, Ron, my right leg was shattered at the end of last year," Harry said dryly.

He walked over between the Weasley twins and took hold of the chain Arthur proffered. With the usual nauseating lurch they disappeared and landed on the platform. He could hear Draco making disparaging comments to Ron and turned to see Lucius looking at him. After a moment of unblinking silence the Malfoy patriarch inclined his head in greeting.

Harry pulled himself up onto the train after a brusque goodbye and walked down the row of compartments. Sliding the first empty one open he sat down on the bench and put his legs on the opposite seat with a sigh. He didn't take his trunk out of his pocket, preferring to avoid questions about the new paint job. Instead he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, smirking inwardly at the reactions he was going to get on his arrival.

Upon arrival at the school he waited for the crush of students to leave before changing into a different pair of clothes. 7th years entered last on the first night and were allowed to wear clothes other than the uniform during the year. He Glamoured his new clothes to look the same as what he'd worn this morning. Taking his trunk out of his pocket he put it on the overhead and cast a quick Finite Incantem. Back to normal size, the trunk took up a good deal of space.

Satisfied, he walked to the last carriage. Pulling himself inside he noted his companions were Ron, Hermione and Neville Longbottom. Neville was proudly displaying his plant and Ron kept trying to get his opinion on the Quidditch season. He gave a small smile and started speaking, sighing at the immature concerns of the youngest Weasley male.

When they arrived he made his way slowly up the stairs. Finding Professor McGonagall he gave her the paper listing his transfer to Slytherin house. It also gave his true O.W.L. scores. She blinked at the paper before saying,

"Mr. Potter, there appears to be a mistake here."

"What do you mean?" he asked innocently, trying not to laugh at the expression of shock on her face.

"It says here that you are being transferred to Slytherin by order of the Education Department. It also lists your O.W.L. scores as 12 O, which is perfect scoring."

"As far as the O.W.L.s go, I guess Fudge switched my scores with another students at the end of 5th year. The new Minister just found my scores buried in a pile of rejected documents. And yes, I have been transferred to Slytherin. So there isn't a mistake, is there?"

"You can't transfer houses in 7th year, Mr. Potter," she protested.

"Well I just did," Harry replied smoothly. "Where are the other Slytherin 7th years waiting?"

"Down the hall by the portrait of Salazar Slytherin. Mr. Potter, there has to be some mistake…"

"There isn't. Goodbye Professor. I will see you in class."

He turned his back on her and walked down the hallway, looking for his thrice-great grandfather's portrait. It wasn't hard to find. Draco Malfoy was holding court with his fellow Slytherins; discussing the privileges the 7th years were permitted. Harry whispered the counter for his glamour under his breath before walking toward the group.

"Potter, did you lose track of your friends and house colors along the way?"

"No, Draco. The Gryffindorks are down the way talking with their founder who can hardly string a sentence together. As of this summer, I was officially transferred to Slytherin. I hope that won't be a problem?"

Draco looked him over before nodding. "Glad to have you in Slytherin finally. I think it was meant for you."

"I know it was." Looking over at his great-grandfather's portrait he said, "Does he ever speak with you?"

"According to my father he hasn't spoken with anyone in at least 50 years."

Harry walked up to the portrait and hissed, Hello Grandfather.

Hello young one, the Founder replied. I trust your trip wasn't too dull.

Worse actually. I ended up sleeping the entire way. I can't believe I actually thought those idiots had some intelligence.

The greatest of us make mistakes, he sagely replied. I am glad to have you in my house this year. It is your birthright after all. That little popinjay there, (he indicated a gaping Malfoy) acts like a prince. If anything, you are a prince.

Now Grandfather, be nice. Draco isn't that bad. Well, maybe sometimes, but he has his uses. By the Easter holidays the one who has been degrading our line will be dead and Draco will have a part to play in that.

Then he has some worth. Absurd that one with six ties to me would be such a peacock.

Harry shook with silent laughter at the disapproving tone of Salazar's voice before he said, I will speak with you later Grandfather. It is almost time for our entrance.

"Figures," Draco grumbled. "The last one who was a Parselmouth was the Dark Lord. It makes sense that you'd have to speak Parseltongue."

Harry turned to the empty Hall and smiled thinly at Draco. "How would you like to shock the entire school and enter with me?"

Draco started chuckling. "I'd love to. I just bet Dumbledore would have a heart attack."

Harry rolled his eyes. "We can only hope," he said cryptically.

A/N: Just out of interest I went and looked up a few of the Harry Potter names and their meanings on .com. It's a great website for the entomology and meanings of all sorts of names.

Lucius: Means 'light' in Ancient Roman.

Severus: 'Stern'. Also anc. Rome. (Hehe, I keep thinking of all those stern looks and severe teachers.)

Draco: Constellation.

Bellatrix: Right-most shoulder star in the constellation Orion. (I didn't know that!)