Pathway to Doom:

A/N: Would you prefer longer chapters and updates less often, or shorter chapters and updates more often?

Chapter One: The Puppet and Puppeteer:

Harry was seething.

First of all, he'd lived a happy life (at least, that was what he thought; he could not remember) for just over a year, and then a whacko Dark Lord had come to try and kill him.

That, Harry thought, had to be enough trauma in a child's life. Then, apparently, he had disposed of the guy who'd been terrorizing everyone – it should have been a good thing, he thought – but instead of being patted on the back and told he was a good boy, they'd locked him up in a cell.

Not only did it not add up, it made Harry very mad that someone thought that they could lock him up, and then he'd happily jump up and go, 'yep, I'll fight this YouKnowWho for you! Show me the way!'

And most of all, Harry thought, he was not just around to get rid of this guy. Would they lock him up again, then?

So Harry, still only being a young teenager, and a very bitter one at that, did the best thing he could think of. He turned his back on the man, and stared defiantly at the wall of his cell. His voice was croaky from disuse, so he sounded a little unnerving. "I won't do it."

The man's eyes would widen, Harry predicted, and he would be stared at. He really didn't care. He seemed to have judged the shock value right though, when the man said, "what?"

However, the man continued, after taking a deep breath. "You're going to leave everyone to be killed by that… that… thing? What kind of monster are you!"

"What kind of monster is a man who locks up children for something they can't help?" Harry sneered, furious with the tears that were threatening to fall. He swiped at his eyes with a hand, resulting in just smearing dirt down his face so that he looked like he was playing the Muggle game of Cowboys and Indians.

"You are not just a child. You can make a big difference. Besides," sniffed the man, "the amounts of darkness it must have took for you to deflect a spell fuelled on hatred… you are not normal, not human. You're just another dark creature."

Harry whirled around in anger, spitting at the man's feet. "I'm just as human as you are. Probably more so, as you're just a complete imbecile!"

The man's eyes widened again, but this time Harry could see it. It was almost comical, really, he thought, although the anger in the man's eyes was not as appealing.

"How dare you, boy? I am the Minister of Magic, I am not around to be spat at by creatures like you!"

"Well," Harry ventured, letting his anger speak for him rather than his common sense, "what do you do? Run the government?" With that comment made, Harry strode over to the cell and picked up the once forgotten newspaper. The headline was still glaring out, but so was a picture of a boy lying on the floor, deathly pale with glassy eyes open in a final expression of horror. "Doing a great job there, aren't you?"

For a moment, they glared at each other. The Minister of Magic – Cornelius Fudge, Harry now knew he must be, for he had seen much written about him in the newspaper – seemed to be struggling not make a childhood insult back. Harry could almost see him thinking, 'why should I even let this boy out?' The consolation was that he could also see him retorting to such a thought with, 'but he needs to be out.' At this thought, Harry smiled. He knew that he'd still be getting out, but damned if he made it easy.

Apparently, though, the Minister had come to a compromise. Truthfully, Fudge was just trying to assert the fact that he was in the control of the situation, not Harry. He didn't feel that the boy quite understood that, and it made him angry that somebody thought they were above him…

"You realize that we can't let you go straight out there, and that you need to learn how to practise some spells. Therefore, you will be spending the time at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry." Fudge's lip curled a bit. He had been against this, but Dumbledore had insisted that he needed to practically learn some things, and that he could learn with his peers and learn some of the easier spells with teachers on a one-on-one basis. However, Fudge knew that this may decrease the time it took to rid the world of Voldemort, so he'd let it happen.

But Fudge still ad to have a little revenge for the boy implying that he was incompetent.

"You will stay there tonight, and you can take a portkey tomorrow morning." Fudge made a small grin and as he walked out of the room, leaving it to be guarded or whatever happened whilst Harry was locked up there, Harry swore he heard him say, "that's what you get for calling me an imbecile, you stupid creature."

As a result, Harry's anger rose once again and the door seemed to slam of its own accord, when Fudge wasn't quite out of it, so he was lurched forwards with a cry of surprise.

Harry stared at the door in surprise, then grinned slightly, and slid down the wall, not noticing that he grazed his back. Tomorrow, he knew, would be interesting.