Twisted Happy

Chapter the Only

It was very late in the night or incredibly early in the morning on their first day back at school. Harry's sixth and second last year. Just a few months before, he had lost his drive, the symbol he worked for, his hope. Sirius Black, his godfather was dead. So he wandered the halls of the venerable school, a ghost of his former self. Memories littered his tour of the school, laughing happy times that brought a bitter taste to his mouth. All of it was soured now that he knew it was for nothing. All his fighting, all his hoping, and wishing, and pain. His family was dead.

His grieving in those few months that he'd had, forged an iron core inside him. A resolve to fight not out of altruism, not out of ideology or destiny, but out of revenge. He would make every last one of his nemesis' minions and allies pay. He had suffered pain untold with a smile and a laugh when he had the hope of spending his life with Sirius, of having a father figure. Now that dream was dead, and so was any mercy and compassion he may have had.

The chains binding him weakened.

His journey took him to the school library, the Restricted section to be precise. A silencing ward large enough to encompass the section in its entirety fell from his wand. A casual perusal of titles turned slowly into a dedicated researching of execution and torture methods. In his unstable state of mind, the Dark Arts called out to him, opened their seductive arms to him, embraced him. The foulest of books and Darkest manuscripts, hidden away in warrens and high shelves made their way into his hands, their desecrating touch burrowing into his mind.

It was dawn when Harry departed the library, fully dressed for the day to come, a promise to return on his lips. The pages of books rustled in acknowledgement. The power chained to their pages was willing to wait for him, to come back and to claim them.

The locks holding him shattered.

At breakfast that day Harry ate little, despite the protests and encouragement of his “friends”. When the harridan known as Hermione tried to blame Sirius's death for his lack of appetite, something in him snapped.

“Don't you dare speak of him and my grief as if you understand. You have never lost someone close to you. You have never felt the soul rending despair of loosing all hope, of loosing the one person that kept you sane. Do not dare speak of him to me.” Harry looked at her through his fringe, eyes shadowed and dangerous, some of the newly born darkness peeking out from his soul.

Classes would have been uncomfortable, had Harry not had his little change of heart. As it was, he found himself amused by the uncomfortable glares and distrustful looks he was getting from his housemates. The Slytherins though. . . they watched him. Neutrality seemed to be their stance until they figured out what his game was. Except Malfoy.

“In the doghouse already, Potter? Not even a day back and you're a filthy animal to them again.” The boy stood smiling in the middle of the hall outside Potions, surrounded by other students who were slowly backing away from the pureblood.

Harry simply looked at the boy. Looked at him with all his new found knowledge shining in his eyes. He stalked to the pale boy like the predator he was becoming and whispered a single word in his ear.

“Salax.” Immediately, a violent longing and arousal spread through the blond, a grinding need blooming in his groin. The spell was a dark one, used most often to torment prisoners or an unfaithful spouse. Only the one who cast the spell could lift it of give the victim any release.

Harry backed away, dark malicious glee twisting his features. “What now Malfoy? Looks like you're the beast about to hump someone's leg.” A dark sound, the unholy cross of an insane giggle and a hyena's laugh slipped through his lips. “I expect you to be on your knees when you apologise.”


A/N: Just a little something rattling around in my brain. No further chapters or continuation is planned.