In the wizarding world, Voldemort was unparalleled in his cruelty. He almost conquered Wizarding Britain but was destroyed by Harry Potter when he was an infant. One Dark Lord tried and failed. What would happen if one finally returned? Sauron/Harry

A/N- This is an idea that I had for a while. Black Speech is a language-based in the LOTR world. It will play a prominent role. Sauron will continuously switch from English and Black Speech. The language itself is vague, so I took the known words and mixed them with new ones. Either from the internet or how I felt the language would sound. The language is described as vile, and extremely guttural. So, I hope I accomplished that. So, please enjoy it.

Ch. 1

"Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk, agh burzum-ishi krimpatul." For millennia, he only knew these words. They haunted his thoughts as he was forced to live through his defeat over and over again. Everything around him had failed him. The Nazgul, even though infused with his power was unable to retrieve his ring. Saruman of Isengard was unable to retrieve his ring, and Sauron would not count the orcs as reliable beings. He learned through the last war he fought was to only rely on himself and his powers.

He would've been surprised if even one of them was able to complete the task. For thousands of years, he contemplated his loss when the ring was destroyed. Sauron didn't die that day, and he never would. He would never allow himself to be fully destroyed. But he knew the powers he once wielded were weakened. He would never be able to go back to full-strength. The Maiar were too powerful to be completely destroyed. But, throughout the years he felt no other presence but his own.

He watched the world progress through the years and watched the world away from the world. An entire world where magic reigned supreme. Many witches and wizards populated the Earth, but something was missing. Sauron knew what the world needed. It needed progression if there was anything that Sauron hated it was stagnation. He tried to help the world progress through his vision. The men and elves that plagued the lands needed to be culled.

At least, the elves were finally gone, and he couldn't help it but watch as the final elf took his last breath of life. Even after all these years, the elves couldn't run away from his influence, and they were finally destroyed. The dwarves were long gone, and all that remained was men. Men who, as he watched on, polluted magic. The purest form was able to manipulate the world, being able to harness the powers of the heavens themselves. But they squandered the gift they were given. Focusing on politics, and not realizing the gift they wielded.

A dark force was covering the world as he drifted. This was different than anything he felt in a long time. Whoever this was had power, enough power to cause him to take an interest. But then the force suddenly disappeared in a gigantic show of power. Two powers collided, and the darker one was almost destroyed. Almost… it seemed this one had enough power to defy death. How interesting, indeed.

"Ash goth krimpatul," Sauron growled out, his voice a guttural whisper. He felt the shadows coil around him, anticipating his decision. Sauron contemplated his options. Dominating this power would be easy enough. Even though he had lost his most powerful weapon, he still was a Maiar. He could sense something else, a presence he hadn't felt in years.

"Dazb Angmu gir-zan, halak eish," Sauron drawled and almost instantly he felt it. Something was pulling towards him, a cautious way to it. Almost as if it didn't know if what it felt was real. So, his most loyal servant survived his destruction all those years ago. The Witch-King stirred in the darkness, both swimming around each other.

"Goth, kologdo urnu, tu-goth?" the Nazgul asked in disbelief. He spent years in the darkness and coiled without a purpose. Without his lord to command him.

Sauron didn't answer and merely swallowed the presence into his own. The lone Nazgul's power would be useless for right now, but he would call on him again. Time spent in darkness allowed him to regain a corporeal form. A shadow of his former self, but all that would soon change. "Soon, my servant. This world has forgotten us. It is time to remind them about the shadow and the things inside of it," Sauron felt a pull, and for the first time in millennia, he opened his eye, an orange flaming eye.

XxX

It didn't take long to find the sliver of power that gave the strongest signal. The dark power he felt was small, overpowered by a child. There were other slivers of the same power, most of it in London. It had been six years since Sauron first felt the presence of a darker being. It seemed much like himself, this being was more than likely dispersed. Forced into exile like he was.

He watched the child from the shadows and found that the child had the potential for great darkness. A child who was abused by his family, and he felt the power that laid dormant. Combined with the powers of Sauron, progression seemed to be a much closer goal. The world that the boy was born in labeled him as a hero. The Boy-Who-Lived. A moniker that Sauron would take full advantage of.

"Harry Potter," Sauron said as if he was sounding the word out. He hated the language of men and preferred Black Speech. But, to live amongst the sheep, the wolf must disguise itself. He watched the young boy being terrorized by his obese cousin, and he saw an opportunity.

XxX

"Dudley, leave me alone," Harry whimpered as he lay on the ground. Dudley only laughed as he hit his cousin. "Stop ima tell Aunt Petunia," he tried but to no avail.

"Mom doesn't care that I hit you. Dad doesn't care either," Dudley smiled as he got on top of Harry. He smacked Harry's glasses off and then hit him in the eye. A cry of pain escaped Harry's mouth, but it was quickly covered by Dudley's hand.

"Shut up before the neighbors hear you," Dudley growled angrily before punching him in the stomach. Tears welled up in the young boy's eyes as spit flew from his mouth into Dudley's palm. He shook his hand in disgust, "Eww, now you get an extra hit," Dudley raised his fist until Harry had enough.

"Leave me alone," Harry yelled out, and Dudley was suddenly knocked back several feet. He landed on his back, getting up with a pained expression on his face.

"Yo… you're a freak," Dudley sputtered turning towards the house, "I'm telling dad, now you're gonna get it." Harry could barely yell out for Dudley before he went back into the house in a mad dash.

'Uncle Vernon's gonna kill me,' Harry thought forlornly as he crouched down holding his stomach. Tears welled up in his eyes knowing he was gonna get beat for this. "Morgdul-nan. Enan ash-nishi," a voice whispered. Harry turned to see a shadowed figure by the trees.

"Na-kash Potyur-dul," the shadowed figure suddenly rushed towards him and disappeared. Harry felt something brush against him before pain exploded all over his body. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out. The only sound that he would remember hearing was "Ash goth krimbatul."

XxX

'This is most intriguing,' Sauron thought as he delved into the mind of the small child. Almost instantly, he found the fragment and watched as it circled him with caution. The fragment seemed to have a type of mechanism. He felt snake-like tendrils brush his essence with coercion that Sauron could have applauded. To serve the fragment, to make it stronger. "Much like my nazg," Sauron reached out to the tendrils and with a vice-grip, filled it with his essence. The tendrils seemed to shriek in agony as its will was wiped out almost completely. "But, in the end, the only will is mine," Sauron said darkly as he destroyed the fragment.

"Who are you?" a voice called out. Sauron turned to the voice and saw Harry looking at him with fear. "Where's Dudley?" he asked looking around. The ancient lord looked at the child, and with concentration morphed into his fair form. A form that he hadn't transformed into since the creation of his ring.

"Your cousin is not here, young snâgâ," he knelt down to the child and brushed his dark locks from his face. "He will not hurt you any longer." Harry stared with awe and reached out to him.

"Are you an angel?" Harry asked innocence in his eyes. Maybe this angel was here to take him away. Away from the Dursley's and to a faraway place.

"So much innocence. Truly you don't deserve what your family does to you," Sauron touched the scar on his forehead. Harry closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, tears in his eyes. He knew he shouldn't cry, the Dursleys hated it, but he couldn't help it. He hated them, everything they did to him was so unfair. Dudley did everything bad and he got blamed for every single thing. He didn't even have a room, he had to sleep in a cupboard.

Sauron almost smirked when he felt the darkness inside the child stir. "Let it out, my child. What do you feel?" He only needed him to continue, and he would be his.

Harry before he could stop himself yelled out, "I hate them. All they do is beat me and make me sad. They… they are my family. I thought family was supposed to love you," Harry looked down almost in shame, and Sauron lifted his head up. His eyes a flaming orange, and they peered inside bright green ones.

"Your family are pathetic human beings. They do not deserve one such as you," he stroked his cheek with a loving touch, "They do not know that you are perfect. They cannot comprehend the great things that you will do."

Harry smiled lightly. Nobody had ever called him perfect, he was only ever called a freak, a monster. "Great things, you mean like the Queen?" he asked causing Sauron to chuckle. "A queen… no, I don't think so. You will be a ruler, a conqueror. The one who would herald in a new age, my champion." Sauron stood up, his hand still on Harry's cheek. "My champion will suffer no fools, Sauron commands it."

Harry felt something surge inside him, and his entire body was wracked with pain. He opened his mouth to scream, but no sound came out. Darkness poured into his body, and flecks of orange appeared in his eyes. Soon the vibrant green was replaced with an eerie orange. 'Why are you hurting me?' Harry screamed inwardly as he fell into a fetal position. "Everyone goes through pain, young one. Soon you will feel pain no longer, you will only know victory," Sauron looked unfazed as the young child cried out. The shadows danced around them, celebrating the return of their master once again.

XxX

"I'm tired of this freak, Petunia. I don't care what that blasted letter said. He hurt our son, how long will it take before his freakishness kills one of us?" Uncle Vernon seethed as he grabbed a pan from the stove. He rushed out into the backyard as fast as his body allowed him. His son behind him hoping to see his freak cousin get a beat down.

Petunia grabbed her husband, "Not outside, handle it inside," she whispered viciously looking out for any eavesdroppers. He nodded curtly and yanked the boy who was laying down. "Boy, get up now," he grabbed his arm and yanked him for the final time.

The boy woke up, but what once was bright green eyes were now an insidious orange. He got up slowly, the change in his eyes seemingly unnoticed by his relatives. "You used your freakishness on my child, did you?" Vernon breathed heavily, his face turning a fierce red in his rage. He grabbed Harry's arm who snatched his hand out of his grip.

"You will not touch me any longer," Harry whispered. Vernon balled his hands into fists, "Excuse me? What did you just say, brat?" he swung his fist, driving his fist into Harry's stomach. Harry bowled over but didn't make a sound. Petunia looked at her nephew nervously, a feeling in her gut that something wasn't right.

"Vernon, maybe you should leave him be," Petunia suggested quietly. She shooed Dudley inside who groaned loudly wanting to see his cousin get hit.

"I will not. I promised you I would beat the freakishness out of him, and that is exactly what I'm going to do," he whispered harshly grabbing Harry by his hair dragging him inside. He threw Harry across the floor and turned only to slam the door. "Petunia grab the be…," his sentence was cut off as he was suddenly lifted into the air.

"To think the child allowed such filth to touch him," Harry said, anger in his voice. Petunia shrieked seeing her husband in the air and grabbed a frying pan on the stove. She launched it at Harry and was shocked when the pan stopped a couple of inches from his face.

"I've never been the subject of… abuse before," Harry continued on as he walked over to Vernon. "From my standpoint, it is fascinating. What the victim will turn to. To make sure it doesn't happen again," Harry smiled with a malice that didn't belong on a child. "What deals they make in the darkness." He turned to Petunia and the pan sped towards her. Petunia didn't dodge in time as the pan slammed into her forehead. The force knocked her head back, and she crumpled to the floor.

"Petunia," Vernon roared. Seeing his wife on the floor caused him to struggle but to no avail. "I knew I should've put you in an orphanage, you goddamn freak." Harry continued to circle him like a wolf stalking his prey, "Freak… the only freaks here is you. You are speaking with a Maiar. I shaped this world, watched as you humans polluted it with your stink," Harry said contemptuously, and with a wave of his hand, Vernon was sent crashing to the floor.

"But, very quickly I grow bored. I thought playing with you fools a bit more would be for great entertainment," Harry put a finger on his chin as if contemplating something, and his eyes brightened, "Ahh yes, before I forget. Dudley," Harry threw his hand up dramatically, and Vernon widened his eyes hearing his son's cries. The boy was dragged into the kitchen, trying to desperately grab onto something.

"Don't you hurt him, I'll kill you, do you hear me," Vernon roared as he reached out to grab Dudley. Harry rolled his eyes, and a pressure landed on Vernon's hand. The sheer pressure obliterated the bone in his hand, and Vernon bellowed out in agony. He gripped his hand, sobbing uncontrollably.

He turned his attention back to Dudley and sneered when he saw that he soiled himself. "Dudley, my cousin. Srag glizdu agh burgash-obzidan," his voice became disembodied, a mix of his and Sauron's as he spoke the Black Speech. Vernon looked up, pain-wracked through his body as he cursed the bastard child who was brought into his home.

The magic nearly took effect instantaneously, and Dudley cried out in pain. His hand seemed to turn to dust, and Vernon could only watch in fascination and horror as Dudley turned to dust in front of him. "Daddy, please sa…" his sentence went on unfinished as he became dust. Vernon cried out, his only son suddenly gone.

"I wonder, human. In the end, was it worth it? The abuse you bestowed upon a child. You abuse one, and you lose one," Harry knelt in front of Vernon, the smile no longer on his face, only hatred.

"Kill me," Vernon wheezed out. He was quickly losing consciousness, and he didn't want to wake back up. Anything was better than waking up to the monster who murdered his son.

Harry cocked his head and grabbed Vernon's face forcefully. "Why would I do that? Dead or alive, it doesn't matter," darkness surged from his hand, and a dark handprint burned into Vernon's face. Vernon didn't even scream as he passed out. But not before hearing, "In the end, everything comes back to Sauron."

End.

A/N: And CH. 1 is wrapped up. I was toying with this idea for a while, and I'm glad I finally put it on paper. I'm going to put translations at the end of every chapter that has Black Speech in it, so you guys know exactly what is being said. So, I hope you enjoyed it.

Ash nazg durbatulûk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatulûk, agh burzum-ishi krimpatul- One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them, One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.

Ash goth krimpatul- One Lord to bind them.

Dazb Angmu gir-zan, halak eish- Return to me, Witch-King of Angmar.

Goth, kologdo urnu, tu-goth- Master, is that you, my master?

Morgdul-nan. Enan ash-nishi- At last, child of darkness.

Na-kash Potyur-dul- Come forth, Potter.

Snâgâ- slave

Srag glizdu agh burgash-obzidan- Return to dust and be forgotten.