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Harry picks the sphere off of the shelf, tossing it up and down as he feels more magical signatures appear. He clicks his tongue a few times, spinning around on his heels. Ginny and Ron are on his right, Hermione, Luna, and Neville on his left. Out of the shadows appear Lucius Malfoy, Rodolphus, Rabastan, and Bellatrix Lestrange, Henry Nott, Antonin Dolohov, and Augustus Rookwood.
Eight adults versus six teens.
Sounds fair.
"Potter, give us that prophecy." Malfoy tracks the orb as it flies up only for Harry to catch it. He tilts his head.
"Ron?"
"Potter, give it to us!" He waits for Ron to answer, ignoring the yelling Death Eaters.
"No one will believe them." Ron's confident voice makes them falter for a second. Unease growing as a wide grin pulls at Harry's face.
"Perfect."
"Potter-" Lucius tries again as he tosses the orb higher.
"You want it?" His friends all titter, their grins growing to match his. "Catch." The orb flies up, hovering midair, until Malfoy meets Harry's gaze. "No one will believe you."
The orb starts to fall.
They start to attack, spell fire glinting off of shiny teeth and wide eyes.
Even with the noise, the orb shattering is heard by all.
Perhaps it starts when two girls, one blonde, one ginger, step into an almost full train compartment. The white blonde sways airily, hand in the other’s. The other six exchange a glance, mostly focusing on the other three gingers, the newcomer’s brothers. Though they give the raven haired boy by the window just as much attention.
“I think you should know,” the ginger starts, eyes locked on the green eyes so bright they're like the killing curse. Black hair tumbles about as the boy by the window tilts his head. “Dumbledore- he…” the blonde swings their hands, smile dreamy, and the ginger seems to take a deep breath. “He convinced my mom that I’m supposed to marry you. Even if neither of us want to.”
The six already sitting exchange a glance, again.
“Come sit.” They shift until the two girls can sit in front of the raven haired child. “Who are you, if I may ask?” He focuses on the airy blonde.
“Luna Lovegood, and this is Ginny Weasley.”
“Harry Potter. Want to be friends? I like your honesty.”
Or perhaps it started when the compartment door slides open a year before, a bushy haired girl asking about a toad with a teary eyed boy at her elbow. The raven haired and ginger boys already sitting frown at each other before shaking their heads.
"No. Sorry. If I do, I'll come find you." The brunette stares at the one that spoke.
"Are you- are you Harry Potter?" Harry grimaces, already hating his fame. The blond boy squeaks when the girl drags him into the compartment as Harry nods. "The Headmaster told me about you." Harry glances at the ginger with him. "I don't like what he wants me to do. He wants me to spy on you, hide information, and basically have you rely on me for knowledge." He narrows acid green eyes at the girl.
"What kind of information?"
"School stuff and anything on your heritage," is the immediate response.
"See! He wants me to convince Harry to slack off, and to keep his heritage a secret."
"Th-that's illegal!" The blond boy exclaims, pokeable cheeks red.
"Pity I already know about my heritage, yes?" A trip to Gringotts without Hagrid assured that. "Thank you for being honest with me. Wanna be friends?"
"I'd like that. I'm Hermione Granger." The girl smiles shyly at Harry, who returns it before looking at the blond.
"Neville Longbottom."
"Ron Weasley." The ginger introduces himself, and plans swirl between the four.
Maybe it even starts the first time a six year old, dark haired, boy brings home a report card. He's so excited, happy to prove to his family that he's not worthless.
Instead, he gets a new scar, courtesy of his Uncle. His Aunt screeches that he obviously cheated to make her precious Diddykins look bad. His cousin smirks at him. Unsurprising, since his entire life he learned that he is better than his smaller cousin.
He won't stop learning. He just learns how to hide it. He learns the importance of masks. He learns how to read what people expect from him.
It doesn't really matter where it begins, because it doesn't change the end product.
Figures in black cloaks fill the room. Most have white masks, but the line in front of the throne have black. Those in white shift uneasily, staring horrified at the limp body shoved to the side of the elegant chair on the dais. Those in black stand tall, back to the throne in an obvious show of protection.
"I claim Ownership as Conqueror. What once was Tom Marvolo Riddle's, Lord Voldemort's, is now mine. So I've said it, so mote it be."
Acid green eyes examine the room. Some of them will prove useful. Especially with the next part of their plan.
Everyone seems frozen, staring at the duo in the middle of Diagon Alley. The Light Lord and the Chosen One.
The newspapers over the last six months have dredged up every last misdeed done by the Headmaster, or in his name.
It began with planning world domination with Gellert Grindelwald, his lover. Up until his sister died, no one clear on who was the murderer. Then he turned a blind eye to his lover's murderous rampage. Rumor has it that he only stopped Grindelwald because the defeat of the Dark Wizard would give him nearly unlimited power. His failure to protect his student from abuse came next, Tom Riddle, Severus Snape, and Harry Potter being the most prominent names.
Every child harmed under his care were named and explained, showcasing his disregard for their safety. Bills and laws that he signed or created were described when they contradicted the public stances he took. Refusing to obtain a trial for Sirius Black, despite knowing his innocence also splashed across the front page. Then came the most recent dirt, dirt that pertained to Harry Potter, the Chosen One, the Savior.
Paying kids to spy on him. A magic block on his core. Obedience charms, loyalty charms, compulsions, attempted obliviates, attempted love potions.
All the while this is happening, the papers spread the truth about Dark Magic. It's not evil, just like the Light doesn't mean good. There are Dark healing spells, ones that healed Frank and Alice Longbottom for example, just like there are Light destructive spells. After all, diffindo is Light, yet it can behead a person.
The Wizarding World is expecting this show off, rooting for a side.
"My boy, everything I did was for the Greater Good." The Chosen One scoffs at the Light Lord's last ditch attempt.
"Save your breath, Albus. No one cares. Everyone here knows the truth behind the facade. We will not be fooled." Wards already set provide protection from the spells that fly from the Light Lord. They're expecting the retaliation, though not the results.
A bound Albus Dumbledore lays on the ground, unable to move.
Acid green eyes study the ragged figure sitting alone in a cell.
"Come to gloat, Harry?"
"Gloat? Perhaps that's what this is. I just felt like telling you what's going to happen from here on out. Your magic will be bound till you're no more than a muggle. You will live here in this cell, alone, hated, forgotten, until the day I die. You don't fear death, Albus, so you will not die. Not until I am gone."
"You can't," the horror in his voice is exquisite, "you can't do that." Harry just smirks. "What about Tom? You need my help to defeat-" Four figures in black cloaks and black masks step up beside him, two on each side. They remove their masks, each feeling a sense of pleasure at Dumbledore's face. Rodolphus Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy to Harry's right, Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley to his left.
"Tom died a while ago. He feared death, created those pretty horcruxes that were so fun to destroy, so he died. You fear living forever, weak, hated, eventually forgotten, so that is exactly what will happen."
"You've gone Dark." Harry tilts his head back and laughs.
"I've been Dark ever since you left me in Hell. I learned to give as good as I got. So, welcome to Hell, Albus Dumbledore."