Here I Come

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

Summary: After Dumbledore's death, Harry vows to avenge the people whose lives have been destroyed by Voldemort and his followers, while also extracting a little revenge for himself and decides that doing it alone is the best thing to do. Dark!Harry.

Author's Note: I'd like to think that when Dumbledore and Harry had their 'training' sessions in the sixth book, that he was actually taught things apart from being shown a whole lot of memories. Also, I'd like to think that Harry continued his Occlumency during his sixth year teaching himself and getting taught by Dumbledore so don't be alarmed when Harry uses spells and/or methods that he couldn't cast/use previously (eg: Advanced spells, wordless spell-casting, ect) or when he is able to occlude his mind.

The fact of the matter is that I did not like Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. I thought it was the worst book of the series so far. To me, it looked like I was reading a fairly okay fanfiction! It was just not as good as the others.

So, in this story you will find that some of the events that took place in said book might be twisted around just a little to suit my needs (eg: Harry actually getting some advanced training in dueling and spell-casting from Dumbledore). It will pretty much stay the same but small things will change, like the training, so don't fret.

Now that that's out of the way...

-x-X-x-

Harry stared at the statue of Salazar Slytherin, deep beneath the Hogwarts lake. He was in the Chamber of Secrets and he was there for a reason. Its name was the Chamber of Secrets. Plural. The Baslisk, which was now lying only a few feet away and smelling quite bad, was but a singular secret. Secret. Not plural, which naturally meant there must be more, secrets that is. Something else had to be down here and Harry wanted it. Anything that would give him the edge over Voldemort and his scattered soul would be of paramount importance to recover, be it a weapon, a book of spells, another monster. Harry really didn't care, as long as it helped.

 

Training himself could only take him so far. Sure, Dumbledore's training throughout his sixth year and his continued training for the first half of the summer had greatly improved his spell inventory and power but that just wasn't going to cut it this time. He needed something more, something to give him an edge, something they wouldn't see coming from him, the Gryffindor 'Golden Boy'.

The Dark Arts was a start.

Though it wasn't as easy as that, you couldn't just waltz down Knockturn Alley like most people thought and buy Dark Arts books. If it was anything similar to that, the Ministry would have stormed the place by now and shut everything down. Dark wizards were smarter than that. You had to know where to go to get them types of things. He himself knew one place where he could pick up some illegal merchandise but he knew he wouldn't get anything there. The owner of the shop was too smart to just sell his Dark Arts items to anyone that claimed 'Dark Wizard' status and if you didn't know the man personally like a certain Death Eater did, you weren't getting shit. Knockturn was out... for now.

The Black Family library was filled with books on the Dark Arts and other various branches of magic but he couldn't go there either. True, he owned number 12 Grimmauld Place but it was no longer under the Fidelius charm because of Dumbledore's death. Even with the charm, Dumbledore didn't want to use it as his headquarters because he feared that Death Eaters might somehow gain access. Bellatrix and Narcissa both knew the houses location and without the charm suppressing the information, they could tell Voldemort where it was and Harry wasn't really up to confronting Snake-boy just yet. There was a good chance that they hadn't even noticed their ability to remember its location but it was still too risky. He toyed with the idea of sending his new house-elf to collect some of the books but he remembered there was a charm placed on the books, they could not be removed from the library unless Harry himself removed them since he was the head of the family now. Too risky. Grimmauld Place was out... for now.

The restricted section in the Hogwarts library was probably the easiest source to get too as he could enter through Myrtle's bathroom. The problem with this was he didn't know what protections the castle had during the summer holiday. He didn't want to be caught looting the Hogwarts library of its restricted books; Rita Skeeter would have a field day with that. Everyone thought he was tucked away at the Dursley's still and he was going to keep it that way. Eventually they would find out he was missing when he doesn't show up to Bill Weasley's wedding which was supposed to be taking place in a weeks time but it was better then than now. He couldn't afford to be confronted by the Order or his friends, not yet. He knew his friends wanted to come with him... As if he was going to bring them along with him, they would just get in the way. Hogwarts library was out... for now.

Anyway, how much Dark Arts would actually be in the restricted section? It was a school after all. A school that did not teach that branch of magic like some others did. Drumstrang on the other hand...

That's what brought Harry to the chamber. He had run out of ideas on how to get some Dark Arts books when he suddenly thought of this. The Chamber of Secrets. Secrets. He knew he probably wouldn't find any books but there had to be something down here and something was better than nothing.

“Well... let's see what's in that big head of yours, shall we?” Harry said to the statue as he raised his wand.

Reducto!

A loud explosion echoed throughout the chamber as the head of Salazar Slytherin was blown to pieces. Large fragments of stone shot through the air in all directions, smashing into the rocky walls and smooth floor, making everything shake. Harry started to think that maybe overcharging the spell wasn't such a great idea when he had to use a banishing charm on a few chucks of stone that decided to try and crush him. Soon, the whole place was swimming in dust that irritated Harry's nose to no end. He quickly got rid of it with a simple flick of the wrist, giving him a clear view of his handy work. It looked like he was right after all.

Instead of just the one hole that represented the tunnel the Basilisk lived in, there were now two others where the eyes used to be.

Three tunnels make three secrets, yes? Well, that's all the logic Harry needed. Caution be damned.

Waving his wand at his feet, Harry cast the levitation spell upon himself, intent on reaching the left eye socket tunnel. He felt himself rising before suddenly coming to a halt. A lecture came to mind about the properties of the spell. It was meant to levitate small objects as high as one wished, it was never designed for the transportation of an object as large as he was. Without his feet on the ground as a definable anchor point, he could not alter his position with the spell.

Options? End the spell, and fall twenty feet to the ground and risk winding up an impressive mass of goo. As certain as Harry was that wizards were made of studier stuff then muggles, he didn't want to keep tempting fate to end his lucky streak by dropping himself from two stories. The only other option was to find someway to move into the tunnel so he could end it and only drop a few feet. Running through all the spells in his mind, he came to a conclusion; why not use the spell that helped him get in this spot? Aiming his wand at the ground and guessing at the angle needed he wordlessly cast the spell needed.

Reducto!

The force imparted upon the ground as an unmovable object rebounded partially upon Harry, sending him sailing through the air and much further into the tunnel then he'd intended. Crashing through the flimsy wooden door he found himself slamming into a large stone table. A potions bottle that had perched contently upon the edge of the large slab for centuries teetered at the edge for a millisecond, before falling off and slamming into Harry's unprotected head. Its fragile crystal glass shattered on contact, showering Harry with its contents. Its potion was light and airy, almost like the material a memory in a pensieve was made out of. Harry cursed to himself and hoped to Merlin it wasn't a deadly poison or some sort of mind altering drug.

Wiping the quickly vanishing liquid out of his eyes and ignoring the slight tingling feeling in his eyes and scar, he looked around the room, stunned at what had been hidden here. An enormous slab of stone sat before him that had been etched meticulously with runes over its entire surface, the runes themselves stained the color of dried blood. Harry shuddered thinking of the acts that must have been committed in this chamber in the past, especially if they had anything to do with the color of the table. After looking for a minute at it, he noticed the runes often changed, every so often a rune would change shape just slightly, or an additional row of runes would be added or taken away from the whole. Changes so small given the scale of the table, that they'd be almost unnoticeable.

Looking up, Harry noticed that the walls were also covered in runes, these not stained in blood. After watching them for a few minutes, he found that these didn't change either like the ones on the table. He didn't know too much about runes as he never took the class while at Hogwarts but he knew what the ones on the walls were for. Concealment Runes to hide extreme levels of magic the ministry would otherwise pick up on; the type of magic levels that are released while partaking in rituals, or when magic utilizing blood is done.

Harry smiled slightly. This was the edge he needed. Voldemort had undergone many rituals in his lifetime and it had definitely made him stronger. Yes, Voldemort was a deranged monster now but that was because of the things he did to himself trying to achieve immortality. He did a lot more things to himself before he finally started splitting his soul, if he hadn't descended into the road of madness, who's to say how much more powerful he could have become.

Just as he was about to leave, Harry clamped his eyes shut as a blinding pain over took him. It felt like his very eyeballs were changing shape against their will by a pair of rusty pliers. He dropped to his knees after failing to find something to hold himself up, hissing curses in parseltongue by pure accident before passing out as his head connected with the stone floor.

-x-X-x-

Slowly but surely Harry started to wake. His eyes were stinging like they had been dipped in acid but that wasn't the only thing. His scar was pounding but it wasn't the same kind of pain he normally felt. It was somehow... different. All he knew was that it wasn't because of Voldemort. Standing up, he leant against the stone tablet for support as he regained the use of his limbs. He had no idea how long he had been out.

Reaching up to remove his glasses he paused in surprise. He was no longer wearing them yet he could see, and could see perfectly.

Looking down at the broken vial forgotten on the floor he suddenly understood. Whatever that potion was it had somehow, someway fixed his eyesight even when modern potions could not. He waved his hands in front of his face for a few seconds before breaking out in a huge, goofy smile. He could see without his ruddy old glasses! This was definitely an unexpected but welcome change. He could just imagine dueling Voldemort and having said Dark Lord summoning his glasses off his face. After making sure he was steady he left without a backwards glance, repairing the old door on the way out.

Harry yelped as he nearly walked straight off the edge. He had forgotten about being some two stories in the air. He could feel his face getting hot at his stupidity and mentally cursed himself for nearly doing Voldemorts job for him. Quickly getting his blush under control, Harry looked over towards the right eye sockets tunnel. It wasn't very far so he didn't have much trouble jumping the small gap. Luckily for him, when he blew Slytherins face up, most of the nose went with it.

Peering down the tunnel, he noticed the door lying smashed on the ground. He'd have to think twice before overcharging any spells in the future.

Quickly entering the room he noticed the lack of anything inside. Apart from the old desk and chair that no doubt had charms to prevent them from aging, there was no other furniture. On the desk though was what caught Harry's attention.

Books.

Harry was by the desk in a flash, looking down at the tomes in interest. There were four books including an old looking journal that looked like it had seen better days. Picking it up, he quickly flicked through it. It was just like Riddle's diary from his second year, blank. He knew there was more to the journal than just that but it could wait for another time, he had more books to look at.

The next one he picked up was a lot thinner than the others, though bigger than the journal. It also looked like it wasn't as old as the others which was confirmed when he opened it to see the name 'Tom M. Riddle' inside. It was a book on dueling technique. A few pages were marked with a book-marking charm. Maybe this would give Harry an idea of what styles Tom used.

The third book was something he was looking forward to reading as it was filled with Dark Arts. He only flipped through it briefly but he knew that for the next couple of months, this was going to be his bible. It had everything from minor dark curses like the Choking Curse to things very advanced like the Heart-Stopper Hex. It was a tome of knowledge that Salazar Slytherin and then Lord Voldemort themselves had written in. Spells they had leant and spells that they had created. It was everything Harry could have hoped for and more so. One day, maybe Harry himself would add to the collection.

The last book on the table was something that went hand-in-hand with the room next door. Books on rituals were rare theses days and the ones for sale, if you could find them, cost a small fortune so when he realized what he was holding, he nearly screamed in delight. It was a very large book, the largest of the four. The books covers were made out of some sort of black metal and two large metal clasps held it shut. On the front was an indent that looked familiar but he couldn't quite place it. Obvious to Harry, what ever went in the indent acted as a key of sorts to open the book and without it, he wouldn't be reading it anytime soon.

Harry searched the rest of the room but came up with nothing of importance. Shrinking the books, he stuffed them in his robe pockets and left quickly after repairing the door. Coming to a halt at the ledge he transfigured a large fragment of stone that lay on the floor below into a large, jelly-like mattress and jumped. He could always check if there was something else in the Basilisk's chamber later, right now he wanted to get home and read those books.

Storming through the chamber, robes billowing similar to a former professor of his, he quickly found himself at the start of the tunnel just below Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Picking up his invisibility cloak that he left on the tunnel floor, he grabbed a hold of the rope he used to lower himself into the chamber and started climbing up the sloped surface of the slide.

Coming out at the top, he quickly threw his cloak on, burnt the rope and closed the chamber before a certain ghost returned. Placing a silencing charm on his feet, he took off towards Astronomy tower were his trusty Firebolt was waiting. Making it there in record time, he mounted his broom and took off, still invisible to the world and leaving no trace of him being there. Upon landing at the edge of the wards he apparated with almost no noise back to Privet Drive.

Appearing in the middle of the backyard, he quickly removed the cloak and looked around in surprise. He must have been out cold longer than he thought. The sun was nearly up and he definitely remembered leaving around midnight. As he didn't particularly feel like facing his family right now he quickly entered through the kitchen door. Bounding up the stairs and making no noise because of the silencing charm, he entered his magically enlarged bedroom and quickly removed his reading materials. Enlarging them, he placed all of them in his new bookcase on the right wall of his room and turned to his desk. It looked like he had received a letter while he was away.

Picking it up, he felt something small like a Knut inside the envelope. Opening it revealed just what he thought, a Knut, and of course, a letter.

Harry,

On the 31st of July at 9 am, the portkey enclosed will bring you to the Burrow for Bill and Fleur's wedding and your birthday party. The Order decided that it was the safest mode of transport to use as you haven't got your apparition license yet.

Looking forward to seeing you,

                                                Remus

Harry had to admit, it was quite thoughtful of them but there was one problem... he wasn't going... but it's not like they knew that.

Placing the portkey in his desk draw, he walked over to his bookcase and pulled out the book on the Dark Arts he found in the chamber. He walked over to his bed and flopped down, kicking off his shoes and removing his robes. Opening the book up, he started reading, soaking up all the information he could and as he read, in the smallest room of number four Privet Drive, one thought kept traveling through his mind, repeating itself over and over, almost wishing Voldemort could hear through the link.

Here I come, Tom, here I come. 

Unknown to Harry, even with both parties Occlumency shields at full strength, Tom did.

Edited: Ninth of October, 2005.