Morsmordre [Harry Potter AU] **Coming Soon**

Chapter One - The Prophecy

"Avada Kedavra!"

Harry watched in stunned silence as Bellatrix's curse found its mark, hitting Sirius Black squarely on his chest. His Godfather's face slackened, eyes still wide with shock as he fell backwards into the mysterious archway that had haunted both Harry and Luna earlier.

In disbelief Harry darted forwards, hoping with all his heart that his eyes had lied to him and that Sirius was still alive. Yet when he reached the arch there was nothing to be seen; Sirius was gone.

Sinking to his knees, he blankly stared towards to spot where Sirius had disappeared, barely registering Remus' arm around his shoulder and the comforting words being whispered into his ear. Dimly he became aware of Bellatrix's voice gloating in the background, and a rage unlike any he had felt before filled him.

Struggling to his feet he wildly looked around, his eyes immediately focusing on the retreating form of Bellatrix Lestrange, her triumphant words ringing in his head with sudden clarity, "I killed Sirius Black, I killed Sirius Black!"

Shocking Remus, Harry lurched out of his embrace, sprinting towards the doorway through which Sirius' murderer had disappeared. Ignoring the frantic yells and pleads behind him Harry focused on one thought: revenge.

She led him on a wild goose chase through the Department of Mysteries, and his frustration grew as she continually managed to evade him, darting around corners just before she came into his spell range. Her mocking voice continued to torture him; comments belittling Sirius increasing his hatred further.

However, when she reached the Atrium she turned to face him - only to find a wand pointed in her direction.

"Crucio!" Harry yelled. The self-satisfied smile fell off her face as she was blasted to the floor by the force of the curse, her eyes round with fright as she curled up in anticipation of excruciating pain.

Yet it didn't come.

Shakily she picked herself off the ground and turned to Harry, a smirk curling at the corners of her mouth. "You have to mean it, Potter" she said, her voice breathless. Harry stepped forward, brow furrowed, raising his wand once more - when suddenly he stopped.

And stared.

Sirius' killer was kneeling before him, an arm pressed close to her chest in devotion and her eyes cast downwards. For a moment he wondered what it meant - then a horrible suspicion crossed his mind.

"Harrrry Potttter" a voice hissed, and slowly he turned round to see his greatest enemy standing before him; Voldemort had shown himself at last. The self-proclaimed Dark Lord's eyes were darting around as if searching for something before coming to rest on Harry's. Harry shuddered at the malevolence shown in those crimson eyes. "Give me the Prophecy Potter, or your friends will die" Voldemort said, his voice barely above a whisper as he made his true wish known.

"It's gone" Harry replied bravely, his wand trained on the evil Wizard before him. "Destroyed, like you will be when Dumbledore gets here".

Voldemort chuckled darkly, the sound eerie in the silent Atrium. "You think that Dumbledore's a Hero boy; he's not. Do not play games with me; now hand over the Prophecy".

"I told the truth; it's gone." Harry repeated.

Voldemort's eyes locked onto his for a moment, and Harry felt a piercing pain in his scar. With a yelp he covered it with his hands, feeling liquid trickle down his fingers. With a lot of effort he tore his gaze away, breaking the contact, and to his relief the pain lessened.

"You tell the truth" Voldemort said, his voice dangerously calm. Harry could feel the terrible anger building in Voldemort's head, and braced himself once more as his scar once again began to hurt.

A loud 'crack' sounded and Harry turned his head sharply towards the place where Voldemort had been standing only moments before, now empty except for the dust still flying through the air. Another crack sounded from behind him and he swivelled round on his heel, only to come face to face with his nemesis.

His mouth opening in a wordless scream of horror and surprise Harry attempted to scramble away, but an invisible force kept him held in position. Snapping his mouth shut, he could only definitely stare forward - his wand hanging limply by his side, as Voldemort raised Harry's head and initiated eye contact.

Harry was suddenly drawn into his own mind, viewing memories he had long since tried to forget: Aunt Marge's dog chasing him up a tree; Aunt Petunia forcing him to cut his hair; Uncle Vernon locking him in a cupboard with stale bread and water... the memories seemed endless. Frantically Harry tried to stop Voldemort browsing his mind but his attempts were futile; Voldemort was too strong.

Finally Voldemort seemed to reach the memory he really wanted - the Prophecy. Harry had been too busy fighting Death Eaters when the Prophecy had smashed and the contents 'read out', but bleakly he realised he had been within hearing distance the entire time the apparition had been speaking.

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...."

Despite himself, Harry was curious, as he'd never heard the Prophecy before. As he thought over the words further, dread filled him - the Prophecy seemed to clearly state that he must kill Voldemort, else Voldemort would kill him.

Yet, as he focused on the connection between them, he sensed a jumble of emotions coming from the dark Wizard: triumph, irritation, joy and even a little regret. Harry blinked; he hadn't expected Voldemort to be capable of regret. But that wasn't the thought that should've been foremost on his mind at that point - his feet were still locked in place with that unknown spell.

Voldemort stepped back a few paces and lifted his wand. Harry braced himself and squeezed his eyes shut, hoping that Voldemort would make his end quick.

Voldemort did no such thing.

To his astonishment Harry found himself able to move. His eyes shot open as he looked at the dissatisfied face of the one who had released him. "Wha-" he stuttered, before snapping his mouth shut. A spell sprung to his lips, but the other wizard made a slashing movement with their wand, effectively stopping him in his tracks.

Voldemort's mouth curled up in an approximation of a smile. "The Prophecy is unclear" he said, prowling around the centre of the Atrium. "I must think on it."

Harry glared at him. Puzzled, he went to ask a question, and was cut off by the sound of another Wizard apparating into the room.

"Dumbledore" Voldemort spat, all chivalry gone from his voice.

"Tom" Dumbledore replied amicably, drawing his wand.

Voldemort stilled in silent rage, the two Wizards sizing each other up. He was the first to strike, with Dumbledore on the defensive, before soon the roles swapped round.

And kept swapping.

Harry watched in awe and worry as the two duelled, spells flying left, right and centre. Despite his Gryffindor side protesting against the inaction he stayed hidden; he knew he would only hinder Dumbledore, not help.

Minutes ticked by, and Harry grew increasingly anxious as Dumbledore was forced onto the defensive more and more. His mentor was struggling and it pained Harry to do nothing.

Voldemort had just summoned a serpent of fire with the apparent intent of wearing down Dumbledore when many loud 'pops' sounded - the noise of many different Wizards apparating into the Atrium.

The central Wizard gawped at Voldemort, his mouth opening and closing like a goldfish. "I-It's Y-You-Know-Wh-Who" Fudge stuttered in terror. Voldemort abandoned his serpent curse and in a flurry of his cloak and a small 'crack' appeared in front of Harry, reaching out a finger to touch his scar.

Harry yelled out as a burning pain spread from his scar throughout his body, tinting his vision red. As he struggled to remain conscious, the last thing he heard before he collapsed was Voldemort's triumphant voice.

"You are mine."