Beware My Power! A Harry Potter Fanfiction

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of its associated characters: all rights belong to JK Rowling. I do not own any crossover references used in the story: all rights belong to their original creators. I do own any OC spells explained at the end of a chapter.

Plot: Voldemort didn't want to kill Harry. Instead, he sought to do something worse, with a much darker ambition. But there's one thing he should have remembered: where Harry Potter's concerned, nothing goes according to plan.

Author's Note: So, as weird as this is going to sound, this terror of an adventure was actually inspired by DCAU's movie Green Lantern Beware My Powerwhich, obviously, I do not own…well, except on DVD, obvs – and…well, let's just say there's one point in it that gives me chills every time I watch it. At the same time, after watching it again recently, my mind went…KABOOM!

And so, we have this interesting idea, so get ready for fun and games, and nightmares abound for our hero's enemies…wait!

Sorry…did I say…hero?

Recommended Reads: Bonded and Dark Lord Potter by JustBored21, Kill me if you can by PercyPendragon3, Harry Potter and the Spirit of Revenge by Lexarius, Two Minds, One Wand by RobertWilsonWriting, The Death Knights by ZombiePinUp, Child of Azkaban by Fire and Starlight, A Darker Shade of Magic by TheSonofTartarus77, The Necromancer by MaeglinYedi and Worthy of Magic by Raul Fictitious

Key Pairing: Evil Harry/Fleur/Gabrielle

Other Pairings: To be determined

Normal Speech


'Mental Speech'


Chapter 1: Opening Pandora's Box





Harry felt all these things – yes, even Death – coursing through his veins, infesting his mind and soul like a plague of demons, as he was forced to not only watch as his, and the world's, worst nightmare unfolded before his very eyes.

But he was also forced to help bring this nightmare back to the world.

The return of the Dark Lord Voldemort, a wraith of magic that was supposed to be dead and gone, was now happening right in front of him, all thanks to the cowardly, traitorous rodent, Wormtail, as well as a few drops of Harry's own blood. The world itself seemed to turn colder and darker as the now-revived undead Dark Lord rose from the ruins of his arcane ritual, taking his first breaths and savouring the feeling of his life being given back to him.

After retrieving his wand from Wormtail, however, Voldemort seemed to hesitate in his actions as he looked from the cowering, hand-less rodent to the boy wrapped up in the arms of the stone angel. When he did so, his red eyes seemed to glow with a fiery malevolence that made Harry's blood turn colder than it already was, while, at the same time, the Dark Lord smiled a truly evil smile as he saw Harry looking at him in fear and raw rage.

"Thank you, Harry," hissed Voldemort, breaking the silence that followed his resurrection as he drawled, "You have no idea how much I now owe you, but do not be afraid. Soon, you will be able to understand: Wormtail…go and fetch our special friend's little reward, would you?"

To Harry's curiosity, Wormtail turned and left without a second thought, leaving the Boy-Who-Lived alone in the cemetery with the Dark Lord, as well as the dead body of Cedric Diggory. While Wormtail went to retrieve whatever it was that Voldemort had dispatched him to recover, the Dark Lord looked around the ruins of the cemetery before, humming softly, if not amusingly, he returned his attention to Harry as he smiled again.

"Oh, Harry; things have gone really pear-shaped tonight, haven't they?"

"Screw you!" growled Harry, earning an amused snigger from the Dark Lord.

"I suspect one of my most-faithful might just indulge you of that wish, my young friend," drawled Voldemort, earning a snarl of rage from Harry.

"We are not friends, Tom! You are a monster, a demon, a murderer! And whatever reward you have for me, I promise you, I'll spit it back in your face…I'd say throw, but I'm a little tied-up at the moment!"

To Harry's disbelief, Voldemort laughed; but, for once, it wasn't a high, cold, cruel laugh.

Instead, it was a genuinely-amused laugh, as though they were two friends sharing a particularly-funny joke; Tom even wiped a stray tear from his eye as he nodded, still chuckling as he remarked, "Ha; tied-up! Very droll, Harry; of course, you're welcome to try and spit my gift back in my face, but, I assure you, young man: you will fail!"

"Never stopped me before," sneered Harry, earning a scoff from Voldemort as he shrugged ruefully, as though he agreed with Harry.

"Touché…anyway…ah, thank you, Wormtail," said Voldemort, as the rodent returned, now holding what looked like a small, black, cube-shaped box, which, if Harry was being honest, didn't look all that impressive.

It was black, roughly the size of a Quaffle and…well, that was it.

There were no distinguishing markings.

No dents or chips in its seemingly-flawless surface.

No runic engravings or images to suggest what the box was for.

In all honesty, it looked like nothing more than a black box that one might receive in a delivery.

And yet, as Voldemort took the box from Wormtail's treacherous hands, the Dark Lord smiled softly as he shifted his hold on the box, so that it was now tucked under one arm before, with the other hand, he lifted his wand and hissed, "Very good, Peter; now…hold out your arm. If we're going to give dear, sweet, helpful Harry my gift, then our friends really should bear witness."

Again, Wormtail didn't even let out a whimper or argument, which only confused Harry further, though, at that moment, he was more interested in whatever it was that Voldemort claimed he was going to be giving Harry.

And how Harry might be able to spit the gift back in the Dark Lord's disfigured, ophidian face.


Meanwhile, Voldemort, along with Wormtail, watched with silent awe and amazement, as well as delight, as the Dark Lord used the coward's Dark Mark to call several of their faithful brethren back to their master's side.

One by one, the Death Eaters assembled; curiously, only a small number – eight, in total; nine counting Wormtail – actually seemed to have heeded the call to arms, though Voldemort didn't seem all that bothered by this revelation.

Instead, he watched with dark amusement, if not an evil, sadistic look in his glowing red eyes, as his supposedly-faithful all returned to their master's side, each and every one of them kneeling in homage to the dark power that stood before them. Once the last of them – whom, from the cane he tried and failed to hide beneath his robes, Voldemort knew to be Lucius Malfoy, which he knew would make what was about to happen that little bit much funnier – had returned to the Dark Lord's side, Voldemort drew in a slow breath before he smiled coldly as he spoke to his followers.

"Welcome, my friends…thirteen years, it's been. And yet, here we stand, as though it were only yesterday…our numbers reduced, our influences have become diluted and dwindled away to ephemera…our power…broken…fragmented…but, no matter. For you, my most-faithful, my true believers, to use a Muggle reference, I am proud, relieved and thankful."

Turning, Voldemort pointed his wand at Harry, the sight of whom made one or two of the Death Eaters gasp and murmur excitably, especially Lucius, whom Voldemort heard scoff and sneer at the boy's apparently-vulnerable state, before he continued, "And, as amazing as it is going to sound, my brothers-in-arms, my resurrection…my return to greatness…it is all thanks to him. Young, naïve, but necessary little Harry James Potter, the last scion of one of, if not the oldest-surviving pure-blood family in history. A boy whom, I am not ashamed to confess, is ripe with magical potential…yes, my friends, even heedless, if not regardless of his unfortunate spawning…but, then again, it was dear, sweet Lily Potter who gave young Harry the means to defeat me as an infant."



"He's just a filthy half-blood!"

"Let me kill him for you, Master!"

"No, me!"

"No, me!"

"SILENCE!" Exclaimed Voldemort, quietening the faithful's arguments as he sneered darkly before he added, "Look at you; once, we were the prime example of superiority in this world, but now, you are but children: clawing at the light, begging for scraps. All wanting to rise up and compete to take a higher spot in the pecking order…and all because you think you know what I want…but you couldn't be more wrong!"

A collective flinch spread through the Death Eaters as he finished his tirade, while Voldemort shook his head slowly as he explained, "You all desire to earn your stripes by killing this child, even though he is the reason I walk the earth again! Tell me, do you honestly believe this is what I want?"

"Yes, Lord."

"Of course."

"Potter tried to destroy you!"

"He deserves to die!"

To Voldemort's personal amusement, he then fired off several loud bangs from the end of his wand, a la Albus Dumbledore, silencing the roars of protest and toadying exclamations, before he scoffed again, "You see? Children."

Turning back to Harry, who was watching the scene with a fearful, but also determined glint in his eyes, the Dark Lord sighed before he clicked his tongue, shaking his head amusingly, if not disbelievingly, as he asked, "You just can't get the staff these days, can you, Harry? Ah, but of course, you of all people should know about that. After all, thanks to my little cursed enchantment, you've had…what is it? Four new Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers since starting at Hogwarts?"

Harry just scoffed, while Voldemort sighed dramatically as he added, "Ah well, might as well skip the prologue and get straight to the main event…you see, my friends…"

Here, he looked to the Death Eaters once more before he pressed on, "Contrary to very popular belief, I do not desire this boy's death, nor do I seek him to be harmed, least of all by any of you. Instead, I have called you all together to bear witness to me offering a small token of my gratitude to young Mister Potter…a trifle, really, but something that will make the future very interesting indeed."

"Fuck you, Riddle!" snarled Harry, earning an amused snigger from the Dark Lord as he looked to Lucius.

"Remind me to inform Bellatrix that Harry seeks for me to give her what she's always wanted, will you, my slippery friend?"

Beneath his mask, Lucius trembled as he heard a mocking, if not sarcastic drawl lacing his lord's words, in response to Harry's apparent challenge.

Voldemort, meanwhile, turned back to Harry as he continued, "In the meantime, Harry, let's face it; you aren't exactly in a position to argue against me offering you this trinket, but, since you seem to be all-too eager to be ungrateful, let me sweeten the pot…"

Here, he lifted his wand before pointing at Wormtail, who still looked as clueless and dopey as ever, while Voldemort explained, "Let me give you my act of thanks, my young friend, and, on my honour, I promise that Wormtail will be yours! Which, unless my memory is failing me, would also mean that your dear, doting dogfather, Sirius Black, would have the freedom denied to him by Peter's cowardice thirteen years ago."

A dumbfounded, if not alarmed look suddenly flashed across Harry's face, while Voldemort smiled cruelly as he added, "Yes, I thought that would earn your favour, my young saviour…an irony there, isn't it? The one you destroyed calling you what everyone else does; now, Harry, to accept my gift, all you have to do is one thing…"

Crossing the space between Harry and the Death Eaters, Voldemort lifted the box to the boy as he smiled again.

"Open up."

"What?" asked Harry, earning a cold laugh from Voldemort.

"You heard me, Harry…I said open up!"

On the last words, Voldemort flicked his wand in Harry's direction, causing the boy's head to snap to attention; at the same time, the Death Eaters watched as Harry's lower jaw trembled and quivered, while the boy grunted in exertion as the power of the Dark Lord hit him.

A power he knew, all thanks to Moody's classes, as being that of the Imperius Curse; unfortunately for Voldemort, Harry had been proven as being able to throw off the curse's power.


'Open your mouth,' whispered a small voice in his mind, earning a struggling round of grunts and growls from Harry.


'It's all right,' the same voice replied, 'It's a gift, remember? Just open your mouth!'


'Open your mouth!'



"Ah…of course…how silly of me to forget," drawled Voldemort, lifting his curse from Harry as he remarked, "You are one of a very small number of your classmates who can throw off that curse, aren't you, Harry? Once again, you show your potential…very well; if force won't convince you, then we'll go with doing it willingly."

"Good…good luck, Tom!" growled Harry, spitting in the Dark Lord's face, earning a round of furious snarls and cries from the Death Eaters as Harry told him, "What…whatever you have to offer me, I…I'll never accept it…willingly, or otherwise!"

"So it would seem," said the Dark Lord, wiping Harry's spit from his cheek before he looked to the box in his hands as he explained, "A pity, really; with this gift, you would have become far more powerful than you can possibly imagine. Powerful enough to protect those dear to you…or bring back those whose sacrifices were meaningless and unnecessary."

"Using my parents won't work on me this time, Riddle," growled Harry, shaking his head against the stone behind him as he added, "I've gotten over their deaths and, even if it means I never get the chance to get a family back in Sirius, I still won't give you the satisfaction. So, like that pathetically greasy prick, my mouth…well, my teeth are staying firmly clamped shut!"

"As you wish," replied Voldemort, humming nonchalantly as he added, "I mean, I can't make you accept my gift, and its pointless to try…so, you might as well be free, Harry. And then you can go back, you can be their hero…you can be…well, you."


"But before you go back to Hogwarts," said the Dark Lord, looking to Harry with amusement as he added, "Allow me to share one glimmer of truth with you, my friend."

Before Harry could stop him, Voldemort charged forwards, so the two of them were now inches apart, before the Dark Lord jabbed his wand into the left side of Harry's temples.

As the boy-wizard went to ask what was happening, he heard a series of voices echo in his mind…

'So, in the end…the boy must die…'

'Yes…he must die…but it is all for the Greater Good…and Harry will understand that…'

'I'm ready to die…'

'Good boy, Harry…thank you for your sacrifice…'

"NO!" Snarled Harry, keeping his teeth clenched together as he snarled at Voldemort, "What…what was that? Those voices…well, I mean, one was Snivellus and the other was Dumbledore…but…but I was speaking too! And I…I said I…I was…"

/Ready to die,/ hissed Voldemort, earning a horrified look from Harry as the Dark Lord addressed him in Parseltongue – or so Harry guessed, given the shivery, dread-filled looks in the postures of the Death Eaters – his voice tinged with absolute truth and finality as he explained, /And, one day, Harry, because of our mutual acquaintance, you will be. He knows it, because every move he has made with your life, it was made with the goal of making you ready to die. I mean, do you find it at all convenient how much has happened since you came to Hogwarts? The Stone? The Chamber? The Basilisk? Black? The Dementors? The Tournament? And, year-in and year-out, who is thrust into the spotlight? You; who leaves you to suffer until the time is right for him to swoop in and save you, fuelling your faith in him? Albus…and why? Because, in his mind, your death is a necessary one…just like your parents were…/

/Shut your mouth!/ hissed Harry, Parseltongue rolling off of his lips now as he glared daggers at Voldemort.

The Dark Lord, however, smiled sadly as he indicated Wormtail, /He knew Peter couldn't be trusted…/

/No,/ gasped Harry, tears rolling down his cheeks.

/He knew Sirius wouldn't betray them, not for love, nor money, nor power…/

/Stop it!/

/He knew those Muggles would treat you worse than a slave!/

/No…that's not…he wouldn't…/

/And he knows, to this day, that Sirius Black…is…innocent! But, rather than do anything, Albus would sooner see him do the same thing he wants you to do…die! And, just like Mummy and Daddy, he will claim it a noble sacrifice…all for the Greater Good!/


A terrible, gut-wrenching scream tore out of Harry, pain, horror, rage, disbelief and sorrow lacing that one word, the emotion behind it so powerful that, caught in the raging tempest of negative emotions as he was, Harry didn't notice his jaws parting, opening his mouth as Voldemort wanted.

Voldemort did, however, and, with a tap of his wand, he opened the box…

And something flew out of it.

Something thick, pseudo-slimy in appearance, glowing with magical force and dark energy, and fixed on the open mouth before it.


"What…what is that thing?"

"What is our Lord doing?"

"Potter…why doesn't he just kill him? Why does he need some…thing to help?

"Oh no!"

As he watched, Lucius Malfoy's eyes widened in horror before his mask fell from his face as he watched this strange, dark-coloured entity of unknown origin fly out of the box in the Dark Lord's hand, only to lunge at the screaming teenager bound to the stone. When it hit the boy, the thing started to burrow its way into Harry, forcing its way down his gullet, muffling his terrified, over-alarmed and beyond-broken scream, while the strange-looking creature slithered, like a giant worm-slash-serpent, into the body, the gullet and even the belly of the Boy-Who-Lived.

As the last of the creature vanished down the throat of the teen Gryffindor, only Lucius looked horrified, if not fearful of what he saw as he watched his Lord take a step back, his red eyes shining with victory as he watched and waited for Harry to respond to what had just happened.

'Tom…what have you done?'



Frowning in curiosity, Voldemort looked his enemy up and down, watching and waiting with abject curiosity and confusion as he counted off the seconds before the thing he had just given Harry to would perform its duty.

Even as he waited, Voldemort knew that the thing, a seemingly-forgotten, olden-days parasite of magical origins, was making a new home, a new nest of sorts, inside the belly of the Boy-Who-Lived, where, within minutes, it would have fully merged with him, devouring the boy's core and leaving a new, darker purpose in his mind.

One that would make the boy Voldemort's greatest weapon, most-feared servant and loyal attack dog.

And then, at last, he would have won the war before it had even begun.

Compared to what the new Harry James Potter could do, Voldemort's enemies would cower, beg for mercy and scream oaths of servitude and loyalty to his cause, rather than facing the raven-haired demon that was going to be standing at the side of the Dark Lord…forever!

Still, it was strange that the transformation was taking so long.


Taking a step towards Harry, Voldemort leaned in close as he asked, "Can you hear me, my friend?"

A slow, shaky, almost-trembling whisper of a breath escaped Harry's body, like a cross between the predatory hiss of a Basilisk and the deathly knell of a rattlesnake's tail, before Voldemort smiled proudly, if not coldly, as he nodded.

"It's all right, my young servant…it's going to be all…ack!"

Suddenly, Voldemort's eyes widened in horror when, inexplicably, Harry's hand managed to break free of the bonds that held him against the gravestone, only to wrap his pale, slender fingers around the Dark Lord's throat. As Voldemort choked and gagged on his own air, Harry lifted his head, opening his eyes as he looked into the red eyes of the Dark Lord.

Revealing two green eyes that shone so bright, and yet darkly, in his face, they might as well have been a mix of viridian flames and neon lightning entombed in a never-ending wellspring of darkness.

And when Voldemort looked into the eyes of the boy before him, he felt fear well up inside of him.

Fear…and something else.

Something that told him there was only one way out of this, unless he was the one who'd wind up on the boy's hit-list.

As he scrabbled for the boy's hand, Voldemort gasped out one word;


The green eyes of the Boy-Who-Lived looked into the red eyes of the Dark Lord…

Before, with almost-inhuman strength, Harry threw the Dark Lord back towards the Death Eaters, tossing him as easily as he would have tossed a ragdoll before, with a grunt of exertion, Harry smashed the arms binding him in place, leaving him floating in mid-air before the stunned, horrified, speechless and beyond-aggressive expressions of the Death Eaters.

As for the Darksiders, each one of them saw their lord go down and made one choice.



Well, almost all the Death Eaters made that choice; however, the cry of Lucius Malfoy came too late to stop the seven Killing Curses flying towards the Boy-Who-Lived, striking him hard and fast, kicking up a cloud of blackish-green dust and smoke with the impact.

As the Death Eaters cheered and crowed over their victory, however, only Lucius moved to lower himself down, laying his cane at his feet, while he made sure to bow down very low, kissing the ground as he heard something that, with the possible exception of Lord Voldemort, nobody, but him knew was going to come from within the smoke.

"Oh…you'll have to do better than that!"





All these things flooded the minds and hearts of the Death Eaters as they saw the remains from their collective onslaught dissipating, revealing something that not one of them could believe they were seeing as they stared at the thing that emerged from within the smoke and shadows.

Harry James Potter, still hovering in the air, his green eyes now shining brighter than ever as he looked down at the Death Eaters, all of whom could not believe what they saw. Somehow, this filthy half-blood, this weakling who'd dared to defy the will of their Lord, was somehow still alive after taking seven Killing Curses to the body, now lording over them and looking down his nose at them with a cold, sinister, malefic look in his eyes.

As for said lord, he actually rose up before, stepping aside, he made the Death Eaters' blood turn to ice when they saw him bow his head to this young thing before them, his voice carrying through the graveyard as he addressed the boy.

"Master…may I present to you these sacrifices as a token of my loyalty to you!"

One Death Eater tried to Apparate out…

But was alarmed to discover he couldn't.

"No! We…we can't…how's this…"

Before that Death Eater – Crabbe Senior – could finish his exclamation of horror, he, along with the six others, screamed in abject terror as they felt their bodies being put through a level of torture and inner destruction that made even a Cruciatus from Bellatrix Lestrange seem preferable.

Then, one by one, the Death Eaters' bodies started glowing with a dark, inhumane light, which flowed up and out of their bodies like dust in the wind; as they tried to pierce the darkness that now flooded them, the Death Eaters heard a slow, almost-content slurping sound filling the air, accompanied by a wave of pure, ancient, raw Dark Magic that made them all feel more like babies before a fully-matured, fully-empowered deity.

As the waves flew out of them, one of the others, Avery, cried out in horror as the realisation hit him first.

"He…he's…he's eating our…our magic!"

"Precisely," said Voldemort, looking to Lucius, who also seemed to have realised what was happening and, like the Dark Lord, had chosen his own self-preservation over even the hatreds he felt towards Harry Potter.

Or rather, to the old Harry Potter.

"Such is the way of nature, my friends: the strong feeds on the weak and now, the Master will consume the world and remake it in his image! I thank you for being such eager offerings to His glory; rest assured, your wasted potentials are going to a much better cause!"

A collective scream filled the air from the seven Death Eaters – the number of whom made Voldemort laugh at the irony of it – before the Dark Lord watched as the last magical energies flew into the body of the reborn, dark-minded and, clearly, ravenous teenage demon in the air, who slurped up the last dregs like spaghetti before he licked his lips.

"Yum…tastes like moron…now, for the rest…"

Lifting his hands, Harry spread them out before he raised his head in a look of divine-born focus; as Voldemort and Lucius watched, the wands of the seven sacrifices rose into the air before, one by one, they flew up towards the godling in the darkness overhead.

Instead of going into his mouth like the magical energies had done, however, the wands flew into Harry's body, which seemed to absorb them into himself as though his flesh were nothing but a jelly mould to be shaped and regrown as he saw fit. As the last wand passed into him, a tremendous wave of magical energy, stronger than anything that even the Ministry's trackers would have been able to pick up on, flew out of Harry's body, making him glow with AK-green light as he lowered himself down to the ground.

Now, though, Harry looked much different.

His body was taller, almost rivalling that of Voldemort himself in height, while his usually-untameable black hair now covered most of his face like it was bathing his pale complexion in a halo-like aura of living darkness. This did nothing to hide his green eyes, nor the powerful, clearly-satisfied glow that filled them as Harry looked around, seeing Voldemort, the prostrated Lucius and the still-dopey-looking Wormtail, as well as seven cowering, horrified, frail-looking figures.

"Huh," drawled Harry, his voice colder than cold and edged by a snarl that made him sound like the demon he might as well have become. "Still alive, are you? I can change that."

Crabbe Senior made to run…

And Harry snapped his fingers, transforming seven simpering insects with delusions of grandeur into seven fat, portly black-furred mice.


The fact that Harry had been the one to say the words was nothing compared to the sight of Voldemort's faithful familiar pouncing on the mice, her jaws parted as she swallowed them whole, savouring the feast offered to her by the Dark God that now stood in the centre of the ruined cemetery, watching with malefic satisfaction as he folded his arms and watched her devour his victims whole, alive and with absolute loyalty.

Once the last mouse had filled Nagini's belly, Harry smiled cruelly before he looked to Voldemort, who still looked like he'd rather be anywhere, but there – and silently wondering what could have gone wrong in his hopes to turn his greatest enemy into his most-devoted slave – before the new Dark Lord cocked his head to one side as he looked to the old Dark Lord.

"Now then, Tom…what was that you were saying about giving me the coward?"


A loud thud, as well as a cry of alarm, filled the arena of the Third Task as every head looked down to see three different figures return from within the maze, two of whom were expected, whereas the third was weeping profusely, screaming for mercy and forgiveness.

As every member of the arena raced to the centre, however, a lone cry tore through their shock, fear, curiosity and even celebrations at the return and, apparently, victory of the two Hogwarts Champions.


Now, all thoughts of celebration were banished.

Instead replaced with mind-numbing fear, terror and disbelief as the crowded masses saw Harry Potter and Cedric Diggory rise up, holding the Triwizard Cup between them, while Harry had his eyes fixed on the cowering, screaming, pleading form of Peter Pettigrew, who screamed it for everyone to hear.



I mean, seriously, what else is there to say?

Voldemort's plans hit a roadblock, Harry has become…well…a God and…and Wormtail has been caught, but…oh boy, with the famous words from Harry, what does this mean for the world?

Also, huh?



And, I'm sure we're all wondering: Wormtail says to save him from the Dark Lord, right?

Which one?

Keep Reading to Find Out

Next Chapter: Harry Potter, Triwizard Champion, faces the masses, and makes mincemeat out of mice and men; also, it looks like our hero isn't the only one who's gone through a bit of a change with the Third Task over and done with, but this isn't a change Harry's willing to overlook…after all, he is a teenage boy and he has…needs!

Please Read and Review