Where I Belong...

Chapter 3

Keys:

"Speaking"

Flashback

Parseltongue

'Thinking'

Messages or letters

- Changes of place / time -

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"Welcome to my humble abode!" was what the newcomers awoken to - especially after being knocked out and kidnapped from their home. The Dursleys looked to the source of the voice, only to land their sight on their so-called dear nephew/cousin. It somehow terrified them with how happy the Gryffindor Star is regarding his only known muggle relatives' situation during the present. Not only was his existence a nerve to be around, their surrounding was also foreboding. Eerie shadows rested everywhere, moss stained the very walls before them, blood soaked the cracked concrete, and the steel bars became rusty with age. The ominous feeling was still there, with the obvious exception of it increasing, as the only thing that separated them from The-Boy-Who-Lived was the creaky, yet sturdy, iron poles.

A sinister look is cast over his expression before continuing, "Aw~! Don't I at least get a hi?" pouted Harry mischievously. "Be glad I'm with you abominations or my companion here would have loved to play with you all for a while!" the childishly-acting boy added a tad bit too cheerfully. However, this caused shivers to noticeably course through the family of three's vastly different-sized frame as they soon noticed a masked figure step out of the unsettling darkness and towards them.

Giggles filled the otherwise already hushed room, not at all helping with the already tense atmosphere. And it all came from the almost 15-year-old youngster. Quiet, yet loud in the inaudible dungeons, and (scarily) high pitched, for a growing teenage male.

Gradually, the raven-haired wizard spoke once more, though addressing the stranger beside him. "Hey Voldy?" Petunia and Vernon stiffened as their otter for an offspring was insignificantly confused at the given name and completely oblivious to the person themselves. Harry smiled dangerously and sighed almost adoringly, "Don't you agree that this gathering was ever so pleasant? It was totally worth having to willingly interact with Snape." Turning back towards the pale witnesses, "You see - well not really, I have to give credits to him for achieving all of this so quickly. I was really looking forward to hearing your screams, seeing your fear and smelling that freshly-spilled blood," the Potter spawn explained whilst having a crazed look in his eyes. It really is disturbing. How the once obedient but rule-breaking child came to be this monster in front of them now is a mystery and a wonder in itself. All within the span of a few days (not that anyone would be informed of) too. 

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No one expected this, but there were multiple instances where the horse-like lady suspected. One time being that he was busy clearing the flower beds of any weeds with the infamous Mrs. Dursley inspecting his work through the living room window where he suddenly spaced out and froze completely, daunting green eyes darkening and a bloodthirsty smirk overtaking his natural downcast look. However, it was gone a fast as it appeared but it was enough for Petunia to confirm her suspicions as it happened many more times than she would have like it to.

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Harry was amused. So very amused. To the point of it being borderline funny. He knows that he is the cause to the troubled citizens. He knows that his friends don't really like him. He knows that he is now dark. Despite knowing the facts that would normally have made him distressed in the past (though that's not important anymore), it makes him excited. It gives him a thrill of excitement, knowing that he is being challenged in such ways that he should hate himself for. It's like a game in it's progressing stage. He will improve, until the only obstacle left is Dumbledore. Patience is vital. Until then, he is willing to wait.

"Now, want me to tell you a bedtime story? About how you came to be here. No? Well too bad! You're just going to sit still and listen." Harry hissed out, satisfied with their pitiful whimpers (that were almost as bad as Wormtail's snivelling). Presenting a feral smirk, he started talking, even in the company of Voldemort, but not without gifting them a spine-chilling grin.

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A/N:

I'm actually really pleased with what I have written for this chapter but I still welcome criticism of any kind. I apologies to those who expected for something better though. Thanks for reading this and I hope you have a good rest of your day.